Today I started to think about this poem, "Tallyho, Tallyho jag har skjutit en dront" by Harriet Lwenhjelm. I haven't read any of her poetry in like seven years. I put the first part of the poem in googles translator. It almost makes sense:
Tallyho, Tallyho, I have shot a Dronten,
Dodo is one I shot with luntlsgevr,
when the sun poured down on a pale horizon
and the sea was blank between islands and islets.
Then belched smoke in the air, which was lukewarm,
and space was an echoing room,
where the shot rang out far and when.
I don't know why I like it so much.
My tits are suddenly growing bigger and they feel funny so maybe I'm pregnant. Or really really good at imagining things. I'll know soon. But I want to know now.
This is what New Yers Eve looked like at Sdermalm. We saw the fireworks from Vsterbron and it was a beautiful view.
Tallyho, Tallyho, I have shot a Dronten,
Dodo is one I shot with luntlsgevr,
when the sun poured down on a pale horizon
and the sea was blank between islands and islets.
Then belched smoke in the air, which was lukewarm,
and space was an echoing room,
where the shot rang out far and when.
I don't know why I like it so much.
My tits are suddenly growing bigger and they feel funny so maybe I'm pregnant. Or really really good at imagining things. I'll know soon. But I want to know now.
This is what New Yers Eve looked like at Sdermalm. We saw the fireworks from Vsterbron and it was a beautiful view.