Men Guðs hond er sterk

The faded fire in me Was yours, only and always yours It was then, my blood Yes, it was then that I lived

My soul to the elements To the mercy of beasts Seems like an age Which slithers eternally cold If all the dung of the world Stands to collapse Across my frail enclosure No forgiveness is granted

A bleeding claim laments Stands in my way It ascends and barely takes flight Never returns to the ground

A vicious breaker hits my bough My lifeline tangled On the shore my pride dimly flickers Then extinguished forever

Doom came to my aid Now there is no further resort To the storm, to the storm Soul bared to the churning seas To the storm

Driven along
Disheartened wandering
Crawling
On the naked mound
Rarely did a day wane so suddenly
With only deathly weak restraint

After the rain
Followed embers up the height of the hill
To reach into the vault
Skin the heavens

My shepherd uprooted the stars
Rode down the horizon’s glow
The scythe swept through stalks of courage
And the light was drawn out of me

If bravery for once took hold
Precipitous with crushing scepter in hand
A swing towards a darkness defeatable
If bravery took hold

My shepherd uprooted the stars
Rode down the horizon’s glow
The scythe swept through stalks of courage
And the light was drawn out of me

Rest, my prince, in the forest of weeds
Where you found shelter from turmoil
Where you lithely fled damnation’s claws
As the cusk from the tystie’s bill

Let out, prince, your victorious cry
Let it resound in the fjords
Where the Almighty baptized you in the waves
and the shore stood open to you

Seething
Daring beyond
Heaving
Across what was

Inside and outside shatter in turn
Despite my attempts to divide them
The wistful tale soon ebbs away
And the emptiness pulls me into
Nightmare grief

Liven up, prince, just a while
The throne is yours to take
Your kingdom can deliver me
From my pretence

Inside and outside shatter in turn
Despite my attempts to divide them
The wistful tale soon ebbs away
And the emptiness pulls me into
Nightmare grief

Leave this gate open
Leave hope for us yet
Though we part ways now
The sacrificed moment
Will bring life in the end
If you bear the will
Grant me time

The shriek of the hinge
Follows me, groaning
Free, no peace yet
Resounds in me a song of longing

But the glow carries your spirit
Along the edge of eternity
Beyond the path of Heaven
It rescues me from peril
Across the sea I hear you

The shrill shriek echoes
I want to know you
Just as you know me
Leap, shivering
Into the embrace of your precious time

But your glow can conjure
All ages into dust
Break the rhythm of the world
It reaches distant lands
And brings you to me

I want to know you

The silence cackles
Above me
Injects its venom
Into my bones
Fear of the end
Crippled in the realm of the dark

Terrifyingly close
Yet unreachably far away
The neverending bliss

Roaming
As apparitions
God, let them thus journey home unburdened
Roaming
As apparitions
God, let them know Your peace and spirit

I feel hopeful
When the dusk gathers
and the waves rush the beach

It is true
You drifted past the headland, caught the sand
Threw your rags on dry land
Found your way home to me

I have believed
I have seen

The ghosts dance as the silence rules the mire
They pay no heed to my arc
The ghosts float there, whence the mist comes
Wait on the marsh
Wail every night
Whirl over the cold reeds
I bear them my troubles ro relieve

God
Dear God
The heavens are whaleskin
The fjord a gaping maw
My world is consumed

God disintegrates
The whaleskin rips
Into black wings
That rise and flutter
Disregard the lives of men

Prayer out of time
To the roaring waves
If you are to take anyone
Take me

Brushing off the scratching laps
Struggling to reach land with no float
To swallow the breath from beneath the sea
The crunching gunwales
The vessels – one by one – under the shadow

“It was on a Saturday – the 13th of February in 1915 – that a grind (a pod of pilot whales) had come into the bay of Sandvík. The weather was so rough that men from Hvalba came on foot. It was too rough to row from Hvalba to Sandvík.

There were four boats manned by men from Sandvík, and these were holding the grind when the men from Hvalba arrived.

It is said that “fátt kann feigum forða” (“rarely can the doomed be delivered”), and this saying must surely be acknowledged here.

The six-man boat which capsized was three to four boat lengths further in from us. The breakers fell upon the boat. It disappeared. But when it then reappeared, it righted itself.

The men were not quite able to recover before the second wave broke over the boat. Still, when it calmed again, the boat came up right. But then came the third wave. This time, it floated on its side. The fourth breaker then came upon the boat. After that, there were no men to be seen.

The smaller boat that capsized was a large four-man vessel. It was thrown up and around in the air. One man managed to hang on to it, and when it calmed again, he could climb the keel.

While the sea was surging, there was another third boat further in from all the others. And it rows out through the crashing waves, filled to the gunnels with seawater, and makes it out – still on its keel – and away from all danger.

We who were present there could plainly see – and must also admit – that a Lord’s miracle occurred here; a clear wonder of God that this boat came through unscathed.

But strong is the Hand of God. There is often a great difference between what man – or men – planned to do and what result was had from that plan.

Fourteen men gave their young lives here.”

Niels Mørk, 1958