Lucka tio 2016

I veckan har jag nördat ner mig i Alfred Nobel. Inte visste jag att han var så poetisk. Har mersom bara tänkt på honom som den där dynamitgubben som hittade på ett pris.
Jag hittade några av hans rader som jag delar här…

Alfred Nobel, 1833-1896

Ur Canto av Alfred Nobel:

The wintry frost, although it spares no flower,
Yet spares their seed to grace a future spring;
Though Vice may harden into Callousness
It cannot drain all feeling from the breast.
It lays there dormant, but with proper culture,
Methinks the seed may bloom a second time.
That seed is Poesy

The morning breeze which gently fans my face
Rippling the waters, wakes a gushing sound
Whose mystic music seems to Fancy’s ear
A hallelujah from the angels’ choir.

Ur Night-thoughts av Alfred Nobel

The virgin world, now ready for the seed
Which she receives from God, begins to breed,
And living beings, starting as from naught,
Proclaim the presence of creative thought.

Thus far ‘tis wonderful, but uncombined
Chaotic matter cannot be defined,
A dust impalpable, unseen, unknown,
Yet out of such the Universe is grown!
It triumphs now, the Principle of light
O’er death and chaos in their endless strife;
But times will be when planets, ours as well,
Ring with the echoes of Creation’s knell,
When reeking suns have spent their final light
And Death triumphant lords it o’er the Night.