Icelandic Hurricane by Tomas Tranströmer
(Nobel prize winner literature 2011)
No earth tremor, but a skyquake. Turner could have painted it, secured by ropes. A single mitten whirled past right now, several miles from its hand. Facing the storm I am heading for that house on the other side of the field. I flutter in the hurricane. I am being x-rayed, my skeleton hands in its application for discharge. Panic grows while I tack about, I am wrecked, I am wrecked and drown on dry land! How heavy it is, all that I suddenly have to carry, how heavy it is for the butterfly to tow a barge! There at last. A final bout of wrestling with the door. And now inside. Behind the huge window-pane. What a strange and magnificent invention glass is—to be close without being stricken. . . Outside a horde of transparent splinters of gigantic shapes rush across the lava plain. But I flutter no more. I sit behind the glass, still, my own portrait.
( from The Blue House 1988, translated by Göran Malmqvist)
WINDS AND STORMS
Part one: Playthings in the Storm
Track 01 Intro
Short intro featuring snippets of things to come,
mostly from the title track Playthings in the storm.
Track 02 Drum Storm feat. Antonio de Braga
Antonio on the net:
03 The Cold North Wind feat. The Mass of the Silence
Great work from Obi Gavin on this one! When he “takes over” after three minutes
everything gets bigger, colder and more beautiful. Play loud!
The Mass ofthe Silence on the net: