Pythagoras

Som alle veit, eller kanskje ikkje absolutt alle, er det bitter krangel mellom Gløshaugen og Dragvoll. Dette fordi Gløshaugen vert prioritert økonomisk framfor Dragvoll. Sidan folk på Gløshaugen driv med realfag, er dei alle disiplar av Pythagoras og følgjeleg potensielt suspekte. Nedanfor er eit dikt om nettopp Pythagoras, basert på ei legende - som godt kan vere sann - om kva som hende med ein disippel som fann ut at matematikaren og sektleiaren faktisk tok feil på eit punkt. Dette kan sjølvsagt lesast som ein allegori tiltenkt studentane på Gløshaugen, men det kan også sjåast på som ei mytisk-biografisk forteljing om Pythagoras.


A man sat once by a beach of golden sand
The waves did their best to touch his feet
And in the golden dune with his right hand
He drew his figures as if on a paper sheet

Pythagoras he was called this man by the sea
A man much respected and admired in his age
And his followers and students much did see
In him combined an Olympian and a gifted sage

They gathered around old Pythagoras by the dune
Each morning as the birds would at dawn ascend
Where he told about the spheres and their soft tune
He was thought a teacher, a lover and friend

Yes, he taught them of the world, the orbs, the spheres
In which the magic dwells that man must understand
And many of the young boys were brought to tears
When touched, caressed by his old, right, gifted hand

One day a young man turned to him and claimed
“I will prove to you that your figures are wrong”
And old Pythagoras then was overcome with shame
He burst into tears and cried a lamenting song


His followers learned what had been done
The man was seized and taken to the shore
Where they held him 'til his breath was gone
And he was submerged to the ocean's floor

Galahad failed

No nærmar det seg semesterstart for mitt vedkomande, og det er dermed tid for å støte på uante mengder hindringar og problem i studieprosessen. NTNU har nemleg lagt det opp slik at orientering og manøvrering på heimesida er vanskeleg og lite brukarvenleg. I tillegg er det aldri godt å vite kva fag og emner som plutseleg opphøyrer å eksistere, og som dermed reduserar vår valfridom ytterlegare. Dette damoklessverdet - og ein digital labyrint sjølv ikkje Daidalos kunne ha konstruert sluare - er ein del av NTNU-studentane sin kvardag. Det var i etterkant av nokre liknande nettproblem eg vart skikkeleg frustrert over den tilsynelatande totale mangelen på kontroll, og eg byrja på dette diktet. Diktet er basert på gralstradisjonen og Kong Arthur-mythosen - ein av dei rikaste mythosane vi har i Vest-Europa - men det er samstundes satirisk, noko som kjem fram - forhåpentlegvis - gjennom den lette og raske verserytmen. Opuset er elles spekka med meir eller mindre obskure referansar til ymse, desse vil verte forklarte etterpå.



Galahad failed

I

I ventured one morning away from my home
Seeking the fountain of wisdom
With a map and some gold and tales of old
I left for the fountain of wisdom

II

The travel was arduous, the winding road long
I battled both Time and its system
Until I one day, when Time gave way
Stood before the palace of wisdom


III

The palace, a fortress, of glass had been made
Its radiance shone in the morning
A guardian placed by the gate with his mace
Gave me a sinister warning

IV

“Enter young gallant, I take it you seek
The coveted fountain of wisdom
But youngster beware, there are fiends here
And a palace may soon be a prison”

V

I entered the main gate and walked to the door
Of this palace of glass and wonders
The hinges did creak and a raven did shriek
And above me the sound of thunder

VI

The doorway was yawning, the darkness inside
Had a fragrance of cold moss and fungi
In the midst of the hall a brazen head talked
Resembling that of Bacon and Bungay

VII

“Time is and it was and will quite soon be past”
The brazen head said with a laughter
“'tis a place for despair so why are you here
Tell me now what you are after”

VIII

I explained my intentions, my chivalrous quest
But the oracle's time was now over
“No more can be given as aid for the living
No more is my duty, young rover”

IX

Then darkness ascended, light entered the room
It revealed nothing more than it had to
“But listen to me, I will give you for free
An advice for the journey ahead you”

X

So the oracle spoke of the palace and death
Of labyrinths seemingly endless
Of gallants of yore and mystery doors
I felt as if utterly friendless

XI

I then turned my back and moved hastily on
Past torches of flickering fire
Then up a stair, where a scent in the air
Had the odour of old woodland mire

XII

Great buildings of glass on either side stood
A cobbled street cut through a city
Friezes on glass I relentlessly passed
Truly a place with no pity

XIII

Behind an oak door I hoped I could find
Someone to guide in the mazes
Yet there was dark, so awfully dark
And of humans I did find no traces

XIV

The door had then vanished, the chamber still black
I could not retreat where I entered
Yet I heard someone sing, and there was a ring
Of candles, a bard in its centre

XV

“What is your quest, then? Oh, be that as it may”
Said the bard at my approaching
“Stride on through the maze, of nightmares and haze
And be welcomed as if encroaching”

XVI

I walked for a while, I admit I was lost
In a cobweb of hallways and mirrors
Nothing was as it seemed, it was like a dream
Brimming with fear and terror

XVII

I walked the corridors in search of a place
To find answer to delicate matters
But all over the floor and on each single door
Were elaborate symbols and patterns

XVIII

One gate took me back to where I once had been
Another one opened to nothing
A path led me through some doors painted blue
One gate had the shape of a coffin

XIX

Then out on a bridge high over the ground
A black knight tossed me a claymore
It had a beautiful blade of true craftsmen made
“Your life is the prize that we play for”

XX

He attacked me at once, I struggled and struck
First blood was his in a fashion
We eagerly fought, great havoc we wrought
You might say we warred with passion

XXI

We fought for a while until passion was gone
The fight was no longer for glory
And when the bell in the tower proclaimed the ninth hour
He asked and I told him my story

XXII

“You fight well young gallant, I bid you farewell”
I hoped he would show me the fountain
“The fountain,” he said, “is a quest for the dead
And you have not yet climbed that mountain”

XXIII

As the black knight was leaving I bravely strode on
Yet my heart was laden with sorrow
For if he was right, why bother this fight
If joy would be like dew on the morrow

XXIV

A great library hall with old book lined in rows
I entered through dark lilac curtains
My heart leaped with joy, I cheered like a boy
I believed there was wisdom for certain

XXV

I wandered the room and its rows filled with books
Yet nowhere a clue had been hidden
For in each single book in which I bothered to look
Was nothing, as if words were forbidden

XXVI

So there in the midst of no knowledge I stood
In a temple that promised wisdom
Oh the darkening hall and the Babylon walls!
I felt as if lost in a prison

XXVII

Then I suddenly detected all alone on the floor
A scroll that suggested solution
Yet on it I read “'Tis a place for the dead
Your quest has the taste of illusion”

XXVIII

“But stride onwards stranger, fulfill first your task
Then you may seek for the fountain”
No more could I see, how should I come free?
And return to my home in the mountains

XXIX
With rage and with anger, with screams of dismay
I tried to break out of the prison
But with no one to ask what was my task
I failed in the search for wisdom













Notar:





Vers 5: Ramnen er ein referanse til diktet The Raven av Edgar Allan Poe.



Vers 6: Referansen til sopp, er knytt til soppåtaket på Dragvoll tidlegare i år (2008)

Bronsehovudet syner til orakelet som, i følgje legenda, vart laga av matematikarenRoger Bacon og teologen Thomas Bungay på 1200-talet.



Vers 7: Time is, time was, time is past - desse orda var alt orakelet frå skodespelet Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay sa før det knuste. Skodespelet vart skrive av Robert Greene.



Vers 9: It revealed nothing more than it had to - ein referanse til ufullstendig informasjon.

Vers 19: Out on a bridge - Brua som knyt dei to bibliotekfilialane saman
Claymore - eit skotsk sverd
Black knight - ein riddarduell er eit vanleg element innan slik dikting, men jamfør dette elementet med Monty Python-karakteren the Black Knight frå The Holy Grail for å få det satiriske elementet endå sterkare fram.