Ras Tafari:

Addis Ababa: Before the Revolution

His Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie I, King of Kings, Lord of Lords,

 Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah, and Elect of God.

Bowing out.

At Highgrove: "So is it going to be Mount Athos or Poundbury?"

"We love the traditional architecture of the Zagori, in Epirus: the roofs are just like the one behind us".

Buckingham Palace

Scenes from June 2006 at the Baltic Centre for Writers and Translators, Visby, Gotland, Sweden, and from the island of Fårö:

Ingmar Berman and Harriet Andersson recall the past, June 2006.

Ingmar Bergman died on Monday 30 July, 2007.

Färö Wall

"Varje sten i ditt hus är ensam

så som du själv är ensam

bland dina vänner..."

Gustav Larsson

 Tjelmar's Ship Setting, Gotland

From “The Seafarer” 

Forþon nis þæs modwlonc     mon ofer eorþan,

 ne his gifena þæs god,     ne in geoguþe to þæs hwæt,

ne in his dædum to þæs deor,     ne him his dryhten to þæs hold,

þæt he a his sæfore     sorge næbbe,

to hwon hine Dryhten     gedon wille.

"Yet lives no man     so lordly of mood...

Who is free from dread  in his far sea-travel"

(The Seafarer, translated by  Charles W. Kennedy)

"Heald þu nu, hruse,         nu hæleð ne moston,
eorla æhte!         Hwæt, hyt ær on ðe
gode begeaton.         Guðdeað fornam,  

feorhbealo frecne,         fyra gehwylcne
leoda minra,         þara ðe þis lif ofgeaf,
gesawon seledream.         Ic nah hwa sweord wege
oððe feormie         fæted wæge,
dryncfæt deore;         duguð ellor sceoc. 

Sceal se hearda helm         hyrsted golde
fætum befeallen;         feormynd swefað,
þa ðe beadogriman         bywan sceoldon,
ge swylce seo herepad,         sio æt hilde gebad
ofer borda gebræc         bite irena, 

brosnað æfter beorne.         Ne mæg byrnan hring
æfter wigfruman         wide feran,
hæleðum be healfe.         Næs hearpan wyn,
gomen gleobeames,         ne god hafoc
geond sæl swingeð,         ne se swifta mearh 

            burhstede beateð.         Bealocwealm hafað

            fela feorhcynna         forð onsended!"

 

"Take these treasures, earth, now that no one

Living can enjoy them. They were yours, in the beginning:

Allow them to return...

The harp's

Bright song, the hawk crossing through the hall

On its swift wings, the stallion tramping

In the courtyard- all gone, creatures of every

Kind, and their masters, hurled to the grave!"

(Beowulf, translated by Burton Raffel)

The Wanderer

Oft him anhaga     are gebideð,

Metudes miltse,     þeah þe he modcearig

geond lagulade     longe sceolde

hreran mid hondum   hrimcealde sæ

wadan wræclastas.     Wyrd bið ful aræd!

                                 Nis nu cwicra nan

þe ic him modsefan     minne durre

sweotule asecgan.     Ic to soþe wat

þæt biþ in eorle     indryhten þeaw,

þæt he his ferðlocan     fæste binde,

healde his hordcofan,     hycge swa he wille.

Ne mæg werig mod     wyrde wiðstondan,

ne se hreo hyge     helpe gefremman.