Вершы: Vintersorg. Solens Rötter. Perfektionisten.

Ur Vincis ide vacktes tidernas universalgeni
Med pensel i handen, men paletten i sinnets sal
Studerade allt fran faglars lyftkraft till vattnets
rorelseenergi,
En fackelbarare av renassansens manniskoideal

Varje penseldrag vagdes pa guldvag,
Landskap efter landskap manades fram
Men aven missnojet i hans kritiska hag
Forgrenades fran denna stam

Han smakade kunskapstorsten som lag begraven,
En torka som ej kunde slackas av varldshaven

Hans tankar vaxte sig hoga likt tinnar och torn,
I konstnarlig anarki,
I experimenterande alkemi,
For att stiga med vingat maskineri
Hogt over tinnar och torn

Naturen var livets encyklopedi,
Dess bilder befaste hans teser
Fran mekanik till organisk anatomi,
Landet emellan? Genialiska synteser!

Studier i konst och arkitektur
Optic, geologi och botanikens hela att
Men perfektionen blev till sist en bur,
Och han kunde ej ens fardigstalla ett enda portratt

Ty nyfikenhet var hela hans vision
Och finna outforskade grenar
Att fardigstalla var att avsluta sin progression,
Och salla sig till statiska stenar

[English translation:]

THE PERFECTIONIST

From the den of Vinci the greatest polymath of all time was awoken
With a brush in the hand, but the palette in the hall of mind
Studied everything from the lift force of birds to the kinetic energy of water,
A torch bearer of the Renaissance's human ideals

Every brushstroke was weighed on golden scales,
Landscape after landscape was urge forth
But also the dissatisfaction in his critical mind
Was branched off from this stem

He tasted the thirst for knowledge which lay buried,
A drought which could not be quenched by the oceans

His thoughts grew high like pinnacles and towers,
In artistic anarchy,
In experimenting alchemy,
To rise with winged machinery
High over pinnacles and towers

Nature was Life's encyclopedia,
Its images proved his thesises
From mechanics to organic chemistry
The land in between? Brilliant synthesises!

Studies in art and architecture
Optics, geology and the whole family of botany
But the perfectionism eventually became a cage,
And he could not even complete a single portrait

For curiosity was his whole vision
And to find unexplored branches
To complete was to finish his progression,
And to join static stones