About the beggar from Luossa

Dan Andersson

From the poetry collection Visor och ballader (1921)

Around the beggar from Luossa all the people sat in a circle,
and at the campfire they heard his song.
And of beggars and highwaymen and wonderful things,
And of his longing he sang all night long:

"There is something beyond the mountains, beyond the flowers and the song,
there is something behind the stars, behind the hot heart of mine.
Hearing - something goes and whispers, goes and attracts me and prays:
Come to us, for this earth is not your kingdom.

I've been listening to the quiet surge against the shore,
I have dreamed of the rest of the wildest seas.
And in the spirit I have rushed towards the formless land,
where the dearest thing we knew shall be forgotten.

To a wild and eternal longing we were born of pale mothers,
from the birthplace of worry rose our first wail.
We were thrown on the mountains and plains to tumble about and play,
and we played moose and lion, butterfly, beggar and god.

I sat silently by her side, she, whose heart was
As mine, she with soft hands tenderly nursed our nest,
I heard my heart cry out, what you own is not yours,
and I was carried away by the spirit to rest.

What I love is beyond and hidden in the dark distance,
and my true path is high and wonderful.
And I am tempted in the midst of the alarm to pray before the Lord:
'Take all the earth away, I will own what no one, no one has!'

Follow me, brother, beyond the mountains, with the still cool rivers,
where all the sea slowly falls asleep within the mountain-ringed bed.
Somewhere beyond heaven is my home, I have my mother,
amidst golden mists in a robe of roses.

May the black salty waters cool the cheeks fever red,
may we be miles from life before the morning is full!
Not of this world was I and infinite hardship
I suffered for my anxiety, unbelief, and my hot love.

On a shell-strewn seashore, a gate of roses stands heavy,
where in rest the wrecks languish and the weary men rest.
Never heard loud songs like the echoes of violins singing
under arches where ever young children of bliss dwell."

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