Viggo Stuckenberg

Viggo Stuckenberg Poems

41. Fuldmaane 6/25/2012
42. Følfod 6/25/2012
43. Hvad Er Den Byrde 6/25/2012
44. Hvad Er Den Hele Jord 6/25/2012
45. Hvor Er Det Langt 6/25/2012
46. Højsommer 6/25/2012
47. Høststemninger (2) 6/25/2012
48. Haandværket 6/25/2012
49. I Aften Tæt Det Regner 6/25/2012
50. I Anledning Af 6/25/2012
51. I Juni 6/25/2012
52. Isblomster 6/25/2012
53. Islemark 6/25/2012
54. J. P. E. Hartmann 6/25/2012
55. Hvad Er Kunst Vel 6/25/2012
56. Januar 6/25/2012
57. Jeg Er Saa Fyldt Af Gode Raad 6/25/2012
58. Jeg Strider Ej Med Spot 6/25/2012
59. Jeg Tænker Ej Paa Dem, Som Har Det Bedre 6/25/2012
60. Juninat 6/25/2012
61. Jævndøgn 6/25/2012
62. Klaverstykke 6/25/2012
63. Klinte 6/25/2012
64. Kogleri 6/25/2012
65. Krager 6/25/2012
66. Kun Saaledes 6/25/2012
67. Landskab 6/25/2012
68. Lykken I Min Sjæl 6/25/2012
69. Jonas Lie 6/25/2012
70. Juli 6/25/2012
71. Løvetands Fnug 6/25/2012
72. Maj [anemoner Og Solskin Og Knopper] 6/25/2012
73. Marts 6/25/2012
74. Martssol 6/25/2012
75. Mefisto 6/25/2012
76. Men Det Var Her I Salen 6/25/2012
77. Midnatssolen 6/25/2012
78. Midvinter 6/25/2012
79. Mildt Efteraar 6/25/2012
80. Min Barndoms Have 6/25/2012

Comments about Viggo Stuckenberg

  • Shaun Stuckenberg (9/21/2005 12:30:00 AM)

    my name is shaun stuckenberg and i believe im am related to i do not know but we do have the same last name and my parents tell me im from a germen/danish decent..can anyone help me out in finding if im related to him?

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Best Poem of Viggo Stuckenberg


It is a long way, a long way away in the land where all the Fairy Tales happen.

Out on a flat, snowcovered, endless barren field squats a tumbledown hut, and in the hut's only room sits a bent old man breathing on the ice on the windowpane. He is staring out over the lonely snow-plain which is empty, cold and trackless, while and sterile all the way to the frost-blue clouds on the horizon. The old man's breath spreads like thin steam over the pane, and freezes. The frost creaks in the woodwork. The cold steals in from outside through cracks and chinks, and long icicles hang down ...

Read the full of Snow

Autumn Evening

A tower stands by the edge of a wood, an old weathered tower with moss and creepers growing across the peepholes, with green moss in the cracks and corners, and withered woodbine hanging like stiff, dry hair down over the red stone. High up on the east side is the only window in the crumbling walls.

Up there behind the deep-set window a woman stands gazing out at the coming night. She is small and thin, and her hands resting on the window-sill are as white as moonlight, and her chin as pale