Med fransk accent

Min Københavns-Anna var virkelig sød,

så lækker og moden i ånde og kød !

Vi skulle ha' gået på restauranten

at finde ud af vårt livs pointen !


The One who Is

Craving for beauty day and night,

imagining, in my wildest dreams,

phantoms of powder to be so bright,

found have I one who is, not seems!

This is my fair Emmanuelle,

natural beauty straight from the Lord.

Those are the charms for which I fell.

Might our hearts be in sweet accord !


A stanza for Emmanuelle
Sweetly has fair Emmanuelle
charmed me, that lady of Britany.
O you have cast your gaze on me !
yearning to meet you again, ma belle !

Sweet Cécile

I'm drawn back to that sweet Cécile,

magnetic was her soft appeal,

and with her gaze of purity

and soul and flesh in harmony,

I dream of our unity.

Tell me your secrets

Tell me you're free for me !

Tell me your secrets, my dear.

I'm waiting for you to hear

my amorous melody,

made to the taste of your soul, love,

as I desire you whole, love !


A poem of love's joy, for Victoria

A lawyer has found her poet fine.

"Indeed we are rich if you are mine."

Smilingly did she have her sips

of rosy wine just to wet her lips.

Cosily, in her summer-like dress

on the sofa she will his gentle hands bless.

"Soft is your skin, and sweet are your thighs,"

says he with such a glimpse in his eyes.

Touching her knees with a gentle kiss,

"so close to you is my path to bliss!"

The sun will be shining on their fine days,

blessed as he is by his muse's gaze.

And under her butt he will gladly lift,

as they are mounting their horses swift.

In- and out-doors with his Helen of Troy,

riding so oft by the Hill of Joy.

Likewise, resting in many a place,

he takes his time to adore her grace …

and nurture with love in mutual bliss.

No longer she called herself a Miss!

"The tits of your breasts are my soul's abode,"

he mused in his joy, and on they rode.

Such is the tale of a pair well-known:

Victoria sweet and her poet Jón.

                                                 1–10 August, 2016

If every day were like another
If every day were like another
and nothing to cheer up a man like me,
I'd shrug it off: "Why should I bother?
Christ, my hope, is yet heavenly.–––
Do your duty, old wretched man!
by helping others, as much as you can."


I swim every day

in my same old way,

a dozen of hundreds of meters.

I'm unique, I'm that Jón,

and my style is my own,

neither Paul's or Martin's nor Peter's!


Für die liebe Annika

Fräulein, sind Sie in meinem Sinn

geboren wie die Muse des Tages?

Dieser Erfahrung wegen ich bin

ziemlich zufrieden mit Stande des Lages

meiner so zeitlichen Existenz,

–––ich war Ihre einzige Audienz!


Kommen Sie wieder, um mich zu sehen,

ja, lassen mich nicht so lange warten!

Ich wollte nicht wirklich von Ihnen gehen;

kennen Sie meinen Gedanke so zarten?

O Sie sind schön, und meinetwegen

kommen und seid meiner Seele Segen!


For my favorite

Gosh! are you there, and sliding as ever

swiftly your way to that goal of ours?

Slim as you are, I forget you never,

versify could for endless hours:

Bound in my mind by a golden chain,

for you I shall sing my last refrain.



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