I am Cancer

The drawing challenge this time is from Nadine, and  is Zodiac signs . Go to her blog for other zodiac signs


My zodiac sign is the Cancer. And even though I do not belive that the constellations of the stars has anything to do with my life, it is rather amazing to read about the sign, and see how much that fits. The Cancer is supposed to be: 

Emotional and loving

Intuitive and imaginative

Shrewd and cautious

Protective and sympathetic

And on the darker side: 

Changeable and moody

Overemotional and touchy

Clinging and unable to let go

The hard shell, and the softness beyond. My home is my castle.The need of security.The reluctance to let go. All this is characteristics of those born under the Zodiac sign of Cancer, and they also is saying something about me. The last  one, reluctance to let go, makes me think of a wonderful poem by the finnish poet Karin Boye. When I was young, I knew it by heart, it meant so much to me, and it still does.  Then I red the pains of growing up into it. Now I can see it is about change in all forms.


The translation into english is not very good, so if you are lucky, you will understand it in swedish, see under the pictures. The winter also has been rather reluctant to go, I took those pictures to day. On one of them, you can see some snow.

Of Course It Hurts

Of course it hurts when buds burst.
Otherwise why would spring hesitate?
Why would all our fervent longing
be bound in the frozen bitter haze?
The bud was the casing all winter.
What is this new thing, which consumes and bursts?
Of course it hurts when buds burst,
pain for that which grows
  and for that which envelops.

Of course it is hard when drops fall.
Trembling with fear they hang heavy,
clammer on the branch, swell and slide -
the weight pulls them down, how they cling.
Hard to be uncertain, afraid and divided,
hard to feel the deep pulling and calling,
yet sit there and just quiver -
hard to want to stay
  and to want to fall.

Then, at the point of agony and when all is beyond
  help,
the tree's buds burst as if in jubilation,
then, when fear no longer exists,
the branch's drops tumble in a shimmer,
forgetting that they were afraid of the new,
forgetting that they were fearful of the journey -
feeling for a second their greatest security,
resting in the trust
                         that creates the world.

This year also the winter has been very reluctant to go! 

Ja visst gör det ont

Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister.
Varför skulle annars våren tveka?
Varför skulle all vår heta längtan  
bindas i det frusna bitterbleka?
Höljet var ju knoppen hela vintern.
Vad är det för nytt, som tär och spränger?
Ja visst gör det ont när knoppar brister,
ont för det som växer
                              och det som stänger.

Ja nog är det svårt när droppar faller.
Skälvande av ängslan tungt de hänger,
klamrar sig vid kvisten, sväller, glider  -
tyngden drar dem neråt, hur de klänger.
Svårt att vara oviss, rädd och delad,
svårt att känna djupet dra och kalla,
ändå sitta kvar och bara darra  -
svårt att vilja stanna
                              och vilja falla.

Då, när det är värst och inget hjälper,
Brister som i jubel trädets knoppar.
Då, när ingen rädsla längre håller,
faller i ett glitter kvistens droppar
glömmer att de skrämdes av det nya
glömmer att de ängslades för färden  -
känner en sekund sin största trygghet,
vilar i den tillit
                              som skapar världen.