The last train to Zürich
“But it’s a real Scarampella, I played Dvorak’s cello concerto with Toscanini once”. Jozef thumbed his moth-eaten hat, humbling himself for the meaty pawnbroker. If he closed his eyes he […]
Monthly Archives: November 2016
Morphism of my moduli
Derive a morphism from the finite field, project it, come extract it. Let it dwell embedded in momentum of Euclidean space. Let us open manifolds, let curvatures, extend derivative of […]
Books and gardens
My garden is a library, my books are flowerbeds. When leafing through my books I find how flowers in my garden are like poems. A few are buds, in splash […]
How I remember birthdays
What I remember most about my birthdays, is how quickly I forget them. The last day of January in the southern part of Sweden is almost never white with snow, […]
Almost lack of movement
In almost lack of movement of the summer night, when sun still glares, reflects itself in sea, I walk across the meadow sparkled, dewed. There’s a sea-gull calling from above, […]
Björn Rudbergs writings 