Dikt og parkering på Jørnjorda
Diktsøylene på Jørnjorda er fyrste møte med Diktarstien i Botnane når du kjem Frøysjøvegen (fv.5711) frå nord. Her finn du dikta Du i meg, Gjev meg ei stund med stille, Tjelden og Haustkveld ved havet, og informasjon om forfattaren Jan-Magnus Bruheim.
Her på Jørnjorda er det laga til ein parkeringsplass for Diktarstien og andre fotturar i området. Du kan sette frå deg bilen og gå stien herifrå. Men parker nær elva. Dei store steinane rundt skilta er tenkte for vern av skilta, kvile og leik. Her er også laga til slik at born kan leike i fjøra.
Frå Jørnjorda ser du rett opp på det raude grendahuset i bygda, der Jan-Magnus Bruheim budde frå 1978 til 1985. Bruheim gjekk mykje i fjøra her og barnediktet Tjelden har tydeleg inspirasjon herifrå.
På den største søyla av cortenstål fall bokstavane etter kvart av fordi cortenstålet avviste stålbokstavane. No er alle bokstavane nede og vi må finne ei anna løysing for dette skiltet. Vi er leie for dette problemet som skjemmer heilskapen.
Forfattaren sjølv les
I opptaka under kan du høyre Jan-Magnus Bruheim sjølv lese dikta Haustkveld ved havet, Du i meg og Gjev meg ei stund med stille. Opptaka er henta frå ein kasett han las inn dikt på til ein blind ven. Diktet Tjelden har vi ikkje opptak av.
Sigrid Moldestad har sett tone til dikta Haustkveld ved havet og Du i meg. Dei er med på Bruheim-CD-en hennar Brevet til kjærleiken frå 2014.
Poems and Parking at Jørnjorda
The poetry columns at Jørnjorda offer the first meeting with the Poetry Path in Botnane, provided you arrive along the Frøsjøvegen road (Rv 5711) from the north. There you find the poems «You in me», «Give me a Break of Quiet», «The Oystercatcher», and «Autumna Night at the Sea», along with information about the poet Jan-Magnus Bruheim.
At Jørnjorda a car park is provided to serve the Poetry Path and other walks in the area. You can leave the car and walk from there. Parking near the stream is recommended as the large blocks close to the signboards are put there for their protection, and for rest and play. A playground is also provided along the shore.
At Jørnjorda you have an open view to the red community house, where Jan-Magnus Bruhein had his accomodation in the years 1978 through 1985.
The Information Signboard at Villevika
If you arrive by boat from Florø to Villevika at Årebrot, you find information about the Poetry Path in the red shed at the wharf. A confortable bicycle ride takes you along the Frøysjøvegen road (Rv 577) from Villevika to Botnane. Most points of interest are located along the road, and the first stop if you arrive from the south is the graveyard in Botnane.
YOU IN ME
The morning I woke up,
Everything became so strange.
With joy I felt a vibrant
You in me.
The novelty of all stood around me.
And cheerful and quiet
Gladness appeared and declared
That you are real.
GIVE ME A BREAK OF QUIET
Give me a day of quiet.
There rippling, gentle
Waves move towards my coast.
Let there be peace, where the wild
Storms torment my breast.
Give me a break of quiet.
Lead me back
From torrents and pain.
Home to the ripeness and ease.
Let all be quiet.
THE OYSTERCATCHER
I prefer to stroll along the shore
A quiet evening at sunset.
There I have a friend to visit.
And the friend – an oystercatcher
Black and white in feathers clad
Where he stands quiet on a stone,
And pure and red his colours are,
Both his legs and beak
For sure I like to be his friend,
A friendship he does not return,
For every time I carefully approach,
He shudders and takes to the air.
The reflection in the sea
Flutters and follows suit
All the way to the Flote islet
Where he finds a olace to sit.
But I stand on the very spot,
Feel somehow unable to move,
For I keep thinking on something
That often has made me ask.
If all who are shy and scared
Knew that the rest of us care,
Would they then be ready to run
As soon as we got near?
AUTUMN NIGHT AT THE SEA
A glowing evening sun sinks in the sea
And here, in the waning light
The heart can forget the strain of day
And go to rest in the night.
A pine tree stands in meagre soil.
A breeze is rustling in the branches.
Ripples whisper hidden words
To bladder wrack and weed
The waves that move toward the land
And sing their ceasless hymn,
They also roll toward distant shores
With almond trees and palms.
Voices keep shouting to me: Come
To other lands and shores.
But the touch of hands, a mild sensation
Moves my thought back home.
Far out you hear the breaking of waves
Fearfully the seabirds shriek,
His half a boat the phantom rows
Into night and the sadness of shades