Gullkorn

Kloke ord og sitater for enhver anledning

Å, disse fiolette morgentimer april 14, 2013

Filed under: Dikt,Drøm,Drømmer,Følelser,Fred,Håp,Himmel,Muligheter,Tanker,Verdi — gullkorn @ 1:55 pm

Å, disse fiolette morgentimer
når tiden ennå er en våken drøm
og gleden går i store, blanke stimer
igjennom sinnets klare understrøm.

Når jord og himmel er en gjennomsiktig
bekreftelse på dét at du er til,
og alt er godt og ingenting er viktig
unntagen noe skinnende du vil

med dette ufødte som hviler i deg
og rolig lengter etter å bli brukt,
som fugleungens vinger bærer i seg
sin sommerhimmel og sin himmelflukt.

Forfatter: Inger Hagerup
Utgitt: Fra samlingen «Strofe med vinden», Aschehoug 1958.

 

Kjære medmenneske

Velg dine ord med omhu og takt
ord – de kan ha virkelig makt.
Hva som blir sagt i alvor og skjemt,
kan brenne seg fast, og aldri bli glemt
… Mye kan bli sagt som virkelig sårer
og bringe fram såre og bitre tårer.

Misforståelser og vonde ord,
kan gi grobunn til ondskap – slik at den gror.
Vi kan ha , for lett til å klandre,
men trenger – vi være slik mot hverandre?

Omsorg og kjærlighet – må livet ha,
det trengs for å leve – og ha det bra.
Misunnelse og baktalelse i lange baner
sårer mye mer – enn vi kanskje aner.

Ingen er heldigvis ”helt perfekte”
det tror jeg er vanskelig å benekte?
Gi ikke ris til egen bak,-
det er alltid to sider i samme sak.

Sløs med omsorg, kjærlighet, tilgivelse
og å skape glede – og fred.
For ingen kjenner dagen, før solen går ned..

Irene Sande

 

Men den som reiser

Filed under: Dikt,Følelser,Hjem,Lengsel,Minner,Reise,Verden — gullkorn @ 1:21 pm

Er borte,

lengter hjem,

er hjemme,

lengter bort.

Hjemme, borte,

her, der

like langt

på stedet hvil.

Underveis finnes

enkelte glimt av forventning.

Annie Riis

«Men den som reiser»

Aschehoug, 1979

 

Letter from mother to daughter

Letter from a Mother to a Daughter: «My dear girl, the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through. If when we talk, I repeat the same thing a thousand times, don’t interrupt to say: “You said the same thing a minute ago”… Just listen, please. Try to remember the times when you were little and I would read the same story… night after night until you would fall asleep. When I don’t want to take a bath, don’t be mad and don’t embarrass me. Remember when I had to run after you making excuses and trying to get you to take a shower when you were just a girl? When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don’t look at me that way… remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to do many things like eating appropriately, getting dressed, combing your hair and dealing with life’s issues every day… the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through. If I occasionaly lose track of what we’re talking about, give me the time to remember, and if I can’t, don’t be nervous, impatient or arrogant. Just know in your heart that the most important thing for me is to be with you. And when my old, tired legs don’t let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked. When those days come, don’t feel sad… just be with me, and understand me while I get to the end of my life with love. I’ll cherish and thank you for the gift of time and joy we shared. With a big smile and the huge love I’ve always had for you, I just want to say, I love you… my darling daughter. «

 

The date

After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. She said, “I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you.”

.
The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally…

.

That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie. “What’s wrong, are you well?” she asked. My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news. “I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you,” I responded. “Just the two of us.” She thought about it for a moment, and then said, “I would like that very much.”

.

That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel’s. “I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed, “she said, as she got into the car. “They can’t wait to hear about our meeting.”

.

We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. “It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small,” she said. “Then it’s time that you relax and let me return the favor,” I responded. During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation – nothing extraordinary but catching up on recent events of each other’s life. We talked so much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she said, “I’ll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you.” I agreed.

.

“How was your dinner date?” asked my wife when I got home. “Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined,” I answered.

.

A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn’t have a chance to do anything for her. Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined. An attached note said: “I paid this bill in advance. I wasn’t sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates – one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you, son.”

.

At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time: “I LOVE YOU” and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till “some other time.”

 

Hold meg november 18, 2011

Hold meg i hånden søster.
Vi går på en usikker vei,
under de evige stjerner
… famlende du og jeg-
Hjelp meg når foten gjør feiltrinn
og ikke kan finne sin vei.

En hånd kan si det som
ingen munn tør si i ord.
En hånd kan knuges
og fortelle om kjærlighet stor.
En hånd kan røpe det ingen vet.
… En hånd kan være en taus bønn
om kjærlighet.
En hånd å holde i kan ofte gi
deg mer enn hva en munn
med ord kan si.

(Dagny Tande Lid)

 

For et øyeblikks tid er det stille oktober 25, 2011

Filed under: Drømmer,Følelser,Fred,Gud,Krig — gullkorn @ 11:10 am

For et øyeblikks tid er det stille

og fred på den fredløse jord.

For et døgn eller to må de tie

alle trusler i bomber og ord.

Et sekund eller to kan du glemme

at kanskje må jorden forgå.

Det er jul, du har tid til å lengte,

til å høre ditt hjerte slå.

For et øyeblikks tid kan vi leve

og leke som søster og bror.

For et døgn eller to kan vi samles

rundt et hjemlig og veldekket bord.

Et sekund eller to kan vi glemme

at kanskje må jorden forgå.

Det er jul, du har tid til å drømme

og høre ditt hjerte slå.

For et øyeblikks tid kan du kjenne

en fred i ditt fredløse sinn.

Men du har ikke lov til å glemme

alle inntrykk som presser seg inn.

Ett sekund eller to kan det vare

før jorden går under i brann.

Ditt urolige hjerte skal banke

for fred mellom alle land.

For et øyeblikks tid skal du knele

for fred på den fredløse jord.

Dine døgn skal du vie til kampen

mot bomber og krig og mot mord.

Det er menneskets fremtid det gjelder!

Til sist vil du kanskje forstå,

i en stall, i en fattigslig vugge

du hører Guds hjerte slå!

Av Eivind Skeie