I have heard the pigeons of the Seven Woods
Make their faint thunder, and the garden bees
Hum in the lime-tree flowers; and put away
The unavailing outcries and the old bitterness
That empty the heart. I have forgot awhile
Tara uprooted, and new commonness
Upon the throne and crying about the streets
And hanging its paper flowers from post to post,
Because it is alone of all things happy.
I am contented, for I know that Quiet
Wanders laughing and eating her wild heart
Among pigeons and bees, while that Great Archer,
Who but awaits His hour to shoot, still hangs
A cloudy quiver over Pairc-na-lee.
For that pale breast and lingering hand
Come from a more dream-heavy land,
A more dream-heavy hour than this;
And when you sigh from kiss to kiss
I hear white Beauty sighing, too,
For hours when all must fade like dew.
But flame on flame, and deep on deep,
Throne over throne where in half sleep,
Their swords upon their iron knees,
Brood her high lonely mysteries.
Det stemmer, stjerne og diplom til deg!
Ikke Beate, :) - hint er lagt til oppgaveteksten.
Og måtte rosensykens ild
I tunger små som kingelspinn
Og kvikksølvgift og råtten krill
I deres rumper trenge inn;
Forfatter med navn som en grønnsak.
Hvem?
Hint: Grønnsaken (ikke forfatteren) er kjent under flere navn - dog er navnene svært beslektet.
Hint: Mest kjent for sin "medisinmann".
Haldor Kiljan Laxness
Enhjørningen, Andre Bjerke
Levithan, Paul Auster
Nord i villmarken, einar Wallquist
Ekko, Minette Walters
Nini Roll Anker, en kvinne i tiden, Ørjaseter
Therese Raquin, Emil Zola
Et eget rom, Virginia Woolf
Aulestad, tur-retur, Bjørnson-Langen
Notar til litteraturen - Theodor Adorno
grunnen
En flåte av stein, Jose Saramago
vrangen
gravene