Norwegian poet for Norway’s National Day: The white stands for emptiness and betrayal. You are cold, Norway. Downright cold

Norway's National Day Foto

A great observation and contribution from Steven Bennett:

This really touched my heart – I just couldn’t not share this.

It was written today by a Norwegian poet for the National Day of Norway, an official national holiday observed on 17 May each year. (May 17, 1814)

It has two parts. The first part is what the Norwegian authorities want you to see and the second part is the reality of living in Norway for thousands of families:

Beautiful Norway, every year you let us celebrate you in the glorious spring. You show yourself in your finest garment: buds are in bloom, the sun warms and gives hope of summer and school holidays, all your introverted residents emanate from their homes and greet even the unfamiliar ones with warm hugs and ‘happy celebrations’.

They dress the children in their most imposing splendor, give them money for ice cream and film them waving flags as the parade goes by – the children’s parade. The epitome of your excellence.

The free children with rights to hope and joy, sheltered from injustice and deprivation that exists outside of your borders. The parade is your symbol of pride, what you want everyone to see and admire.

The colors you’ve chosen for your flag is red, blue and white. Red for the sun’s heat and the hearts and love. Blue is the sea, the horizon and the dreams. White is for snow and glaciers, the famous national characteristics.

Redati copii inapoi- Familia Avramescu, Bodnariu si Nan. Norvegia FOTO AGNUS DEI

Snow and ice. The truth about Norway. The truth about the real Norwegian atmosphere, undercover of a short, beautiful spring.

On this day the light shines out there. The focus is on life in the streets. No one notices the silent ones, those who do not rejoice. Those who remain inside and pull their curtains down.

They have nothing to cheer for today. They have lost all the beauty in their lives. This day is perceived as a mockery and as the famous salt in the wound. For this is not a day in style with the truth. Freedom, they have lost all faith in, their hope and their joy are sitting in captivity.

Their children are not in the parade. Not where they can see them. Their children are no longer theirs. They are trapped in a darkest dungeon, barnevernet.

In some locker hangs a costume that was never used or that was used a long time ago. The door to the closet is closed. The beautiful folk costume reminds them of pain. Especially today. The blue in your flag now stands for tears of helpless eyes. Maybe, they even asked for help themselves and you responded by taking from them their happiness, their children.

Outside stands the flagpole. It was used once. A very long time ago. Around the time a child woke up in this house to celebrate its freedom and to buy ice cream. There was also once a feast here on this day. Maybe they did not have all that everyone else had, but they had each other. A family gathering with a barbecue, and they enjoyed themselves. On this Children’s Day.

The children they love so dearly, but that they never get to live with. Hearts burst. Blood flows from the deepest wounds that will never stop bleeding. From people who are cut up into infinite pieces and live stigmatized for every piece you could twist and distort. Blood from these people who still hold the battered pieces together and pile up to fight. Because they love. The red in your flag symbolize this blood today.

The white stands for emptiness. It also stands for betrayal. It stands for the cold you expose far too many people to. The cold, white mist that really is your breath. You are cold, Norway. Downright cold. In dark rooms people are freezing today. They are in mourning as you celebrate yourself. Joyful shouts from the ignorant out there make them wish this day had never come.

For all too many, this day is one of the worst. Beautiful Norway. Look around you. Do you not see the flags missing? More and more flags are missing for each year that passes. Your glossy print is fading, my oh so beautiful Norway …

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