Tree-Trip-Drop-Hop [engl.]
1: Plastic is dripping over green mountains
drunken a chill-out-beat is murmuring
and ancient voices are choiring [verb from the noun choir] to the synth-rain
slate blue the rain, green is the ground it is falling on
2: Sick makes me the greenness of the chains of hills
Whenever one sinks, I fall upwards
only the rain follows no direction
blows and lashes in the rhythm of a Trip-Pop-Beat
3: Disharmonies are flattening mountains
pulling wind full of clouds out to the sea
sounds of sorrows are lining [verb, noun the line of a poem] a counterpoint
and mordantly a tune is breaking and smoothening the waves
4: Your eyes are blue
Like the sea I’m leaning on
Flowing around me between Skären and the Gulf of Botthnia
I’m fadíng away in the scratching of this intoxicated blueness
5/3: The bells of the sea are ringing, organing [verb for the noun the organ] seagull screeching
The sea breaks out, the storm is jangling
Only in between are monophonic bass-lines
But analouge howling screams polyphonic flat waves away
6/2: I reach out my hand
I want to go back – your eyes are blue
If God also wants tomorrow
If God wants to, I am – or not
7/1: The metronomic pulse of rain drops
Tick-Tack-Tack-Tick – hours by and backwards
are standing still at the same time and sample space and time
Back in the wet slate blue woods
8/4: My eyes are green, I have never seen the sea
A tree knows rain, snow, but no waves
My eyes are green like a sea of woods
Your eyes are blue, where will I meet the sea?
(reverberant) [If I am(so I am) – if God wants to
Then my eye sare blue – if God wants to
then your eyes are green – if God wants to
Between Skären, you and I, blue-green……]