THE EDGE OF HEAVEN

‘The Edge of Heaven‘  is series of ink-jet print artwork inspired by Icelandic poetry. 

This series reflects the meeting of cosmic energies, the eternal and divine above and beyond human conflicts, the spirit emanating from the  atmosphere of the Icelandic landscape. 

This series was originally paired with classic and contemporary Icelandic poetry of Jónas Hallgrímsson, Björk Guðmundsdóttir and others.

“…to find the place
where cosmic waves
crash ashore:
to cast anchor
off that empty coast,
that far frontier
and final reach
of created things:
the edge of heaven.”

(from Jonas Hallgrimson: The Vastness of the Universe, 1837)

Poetic Iceland

Björk Guðmundsdóttir 

Aurora

2001

Goddess sparkle
Shoot me
Beyond this suffer
The need
Is great
Aurora

Aurora
Goddess sparkle
A mountain shade
Suggests your shape
I tumbled down
On my knees
Fill the mouth
With snow
The way it melts
I wish
To melt
Into you
Aurora

*

Sigurður Pálsson

The Darkness

Trust the darkness
for your journey
the warm loving darkness
Then your journey
will be full of light
from the first line
to the last

Náttmyrkrið

Treystu náttmyrkrinu
fyrir ferð þinni
heitu ástríku
náttmyrkrinu
Þá verður ferð þín
full af birtu
frá fyrstu línu
til þeirrar síðustu

*

Jónas Hallgrímsson

The Vastness of the Universe 

1843

I am the speeding
spark of light
flung by God
from the forge of Chaos.
I soar on wings
swifter than wind
above the paths
of the pulsing stars.
Faster! faster!
to find the place
where cosmic waves
crash ashore:
to cast anchor
off that empty coast,
that far frontier
and final reach
of created things: —
the edge of heaven.
I watched the stars
in the womb of youth
rise from the still
streams of heaven,
eager to make
their million year
race through the thin
ethereal blue.
Later they flickered
faintly behind me
as I rushed on
to the rim of worlds.
I peered with anxious
eyes about me:
now I was steering
through starless voids.
Faster! faster!
to find the place
where Nothingness reigns
and inane Chaos,
wending my way
on wings of light,
steering toward port
with steady courage.
As I dart on
through dim greyness,
I encounter clouds
of cosmic dust.
Behind me I hear,
hushed in distance,
dark cataracts
of dying suns.
Suddenly, something
comes swiftly toward me
through empty night —
an image that speaks:
“Stay, oh traveller
tired with flight!
Tell me, wanderer —
what are you seeking?”
“My way leads on
to the worlds you come from!
My flight is destined
to those distant shores,
that far frontier
and final reach
of created things: —
the edge of heaven.”
“Cease your search,
sojourner! end
your futile wandering
through wastes of ether!
Know that ahead of you
lie nothing
but infinite tracts
of endlessness.”
“Cease your search,
sojourner! end
your futile wandering
through wastes of ether!
Behind me, too,
lie torrents of stars
and infinite, empty
endlessness.”
Oh eagle-mounting
imagination!
Cease your soaring,
descend to earth!
Oh swift voyager,
venturesome poet:
tired of creating,
cast your anchor here!
Alheimsvíðáttan
Eg er sá geisli,
er guðs hönd skapanda
fyrr úr ginnunga
gapi stökkti;
flýg eg á vinda
vængjum yfir
háar leiðir
himinljósa.
Flýta vil eg ferðum,
fara vil eg þangað,
öldur sem alheims
á eiði brotna,
akkeri varpa
fyrir auðri strönd
að hinum mikla
merkisteini
skapaðra hluta
við skaut alhimins.
Sá eg í ungum
æskublóma
stjörnur úr himin-
straumum rísa,
þúsund alda
að þreyta skeið
heiðfagran gegnum
himinbláma.
Sá eg þær blika
á baki mér,
er eg til heima
hafnar þreytti;
ókyrrt auga
sást allt um kring;
stóð eg þá í geimi
stjörnulausum.
Flýta vil eg ferðum,
fara vil eg þangað,
Ekkert sem ríkir
og Óskapnaður;
leið vil eg þreyta
ljóss vængjum á,
hraustum huga
til hafnar stýra.
Gránar í geimi,
geysa ég um himin
þokuþungaðan
þjótandi fram;
dunar mér á baki
dökknaðra sóla
flugniður allra,
sem fossa deyjandi.
Kemur þá óðfluga
um auðan veg
mér í móti
mynd farandi:
“bíddu flugmóður
ferðamaður!
heyrðu! hermdu mér,
hvurt á að leita?”
“”Vegur minn liggur
til veralda þinna;
flug vil eg þreyta
á fjarlæga strönd,
að hinum mikla
merkisteini
skapaðra hluta
við skaut alhimins.””
“Hættu, Hættu!
um himingeima
ónýtisferð
þú áfram heldur;
vittu að fyrir
framan þig er
Ómælisundur
og endaleysa.”
“”Hættu, Hættu!
þú sem hér kemur,
ónýtisferð
þú áfram heldur;
belja mér á baki
bláir straumar,
eilífðar ógrynni
og endaleysa.””
Arnfleygur hugur!
hættu nú sveimi;
sárþreytta vængi
síga láttu niður;
skáldhraður skipstjóri,
sköpunarmagn!
fleini farmóður
flýttu hér úr stafni.

*

Björn Gunnlaugsson 

Night (Njóla)

1842

Just as crowds of cod and plaice
caper in the ocean,
God has filled the gulf of space
with galaxies in motion.

Sem þá mest er síldum af
í söltum þorska lautum,
alt eins morar uppheims haf
ótal vetrarbrautum.