...from a BookLover

Saturday, 18 August 2012

Minutes, perhaps hours...

Another favourite poem of mine is "Minutes" by Tor Ulven, a Norwegian poet:

Minutes, perhaps hours
of your own existence

that you have forgotten,
but that I

remember. You are living
a secret life

in another's memory.
-Tor Ulven-
(translated by me)

I could not find an official translation, so I gave it a try myself. The last sentence is up for debating, so here is another translation, which is slightly different:

In addition, I am including the original Norwegian version:

Minutter, kanskje timer
av din egen eksistens

som du har glemt,
men som jeg

husker. Du lever
et hemmelig liv

i en annens minne.

-Tor Ulven-
fra "Som fossile bølgeslag" 1984

This poem says a lot about the way we ought to live our lives - at least I find it does. It reminds me of staying true to myself, so other people might get to know the real me. It scares me to think about all the different impressions people have of me, all the different perseptions of who I really am that floats around in the world within my friends, family and others. 

It also reminds me of living in the moment. And of creating happy memories. 


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