My 96 year old grandpa passed away today, he was an awesome man and a great inspiration to me. Here’s a poem he wrote and sent me when I moved to Los Angeles five and a half years ago. I made a half-ass attempt to translate it as well – my translation is not nearly as good – but you can still get the point.
| Struntpratets Lov Stundom känns behov att prata På landet eller stadens gata Då undran, skall man säga nåt’ av vikt Om religion, politik, samhällsplikt Nej. Allvarsorden kan bränna till Det är knappast vad man vill Samtalet kan då bli genast fryst Så, kalaset även börja tyst Ett lekfullt skämt som allom gläder Eller börja snacka lite väder Och så en komplimang kan göra susen |
A Praise for Smalltalk Sometimes you feel the need to talk On the country side or city street Then you wonder, should you say somethin’ important About religion, politic, social duty No. Serious words can burn It is hardly what one intended The conversation can then be frozen And the party become quiet A playful joke that makes everyone smile Or to talk some weather And compliment can do the trick |
