Unfolding the standards of the dreams

Michael Strunge

1958 - 1986

"Now I can fly"

Those are the alleged last words of danish poet Michael Strunge. 

I pass that little sign every day. 

I don't read his poems any more, but he used to mean a lot to me. I would sit in my teen bedroom, listening to troubled music, reading troubled writings by troubled heroes and expose my troubled young heart in poor, but troubled, poetry in my treasured little black china-book. I'd have candlelights. I'd smoke out of the window. Sometimes I'd sneek into the kitchen when everybody else had gone to bed and pour myself some red wine. I'd ache. 

I miss those private, secret hours, looking out into the black forestnight. But I don't miss the chaos inside of me. 

I've made a meek translation of one of his poems:

Armed with these

the words of the wings

I stand

ready to float.

I dive out

from the crystaltower

and I stretch myself out

over the horizon

with the brain in the heart of the world.

Through darkness, through light

Through glowing cities at night.

Through dreams, through emotions

Through sensing scenery in now - 

through the day and night my flight goes on

through the clock, through the sight. 


(To read it in danish, click here.) 

He was such a handsome man. He was only - the infamous - 27 years old when he jumped out of the window of the building, that I pass every day on my bike...

Love,

Ida

P.s. The post-title is one of Michaels titles. 

The Trees Are Gone...

We have many parks in Copenhagen, but overall, it's not a very green city, which is a shame. 

It hurt me yesterday, when I saw they had cut down all trees but one at Kultorvet. Maybe it's part of the renovation of the street Købmagergade - but still, why cut down healthy, beautiful trees? I hope the reason is, that they had a disease - can anyone tell me if that is the case? 

Love,

Ida

Tonights setlist

Just printed 5 copies of tonights setlist. How do you like them titles?

Looking forward to playing the concert, because there is no better feeling than being on stage with the band - but today has been a black day. We've lost two great danes.
Tøger Seidenfaden, the editer-in-chief of "my" newspaper, Politiken. The paper I've read the last 15 years and where I dream of working some day. He was Politiken. 
And Henrik Hall, a musician and part of Love Shop.

May you sleep eternally peacefull, you two great men.

Love,
Ida