00:30

Meditative Nature Poetry: 'Mountain Life' With Music

by Kristen Estill

Rated
4.9
Type
guided
Activity
Meditation
Suitable for
Everyone
Plays
79

We journey to the serene heart of the mountains in this 19th-century poem by Henrik Ibsen. This immersive meditative reading reflects on the sublime beauty of "Mountain Life" as those who spend their days, like the saeter-maiden, in wonder among the glaciers, valley, and sunset which evokes a sense of awe in the natural world that soars beyond human understanding. Music contribution, "Heart of Nowhere" by Kevin Macleod. Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License

MeditationNaturePoetryMusicSerenityReflectionSolitudeAwePeaceful SolitudeEvening MeditationsMountainsMountain VisualizationsNature VisualizationsSeasonal Reflections

Transcript

In summer dusk,

The valley lies.

With far-flung shadow veil,

A cloud sea laps the precipice before the evening gale.

The welter of the cloud-waves grey cuts off from keenest sight,

The glacier looking out by day,

O'er all the district far away,

And crowned with golden light.

But o'er the smouldering cloud-racks flow,

Where gold and amber kiss.

Stands up the archipelago,

A home of shining peace.

The mountain eagle seems to sail,

A ship far seen at heaven,

And over all a serried pail of peaks like giants ranked in mail,

Fronts westward,

Threatening heaven.

But look,

A steady nestles close,

Beneath the ice-fields bound,

Where purple cliffs and glittering snows the quiet home surround.

Here place and people seem to be,

A world apart,

Alone.

Cut off from men by spate and scree,

It has a heaven more broad,

More free,

A sunshine all its own.

Look,

Mute the satyr maiden stays,

Half shadow,

Half a flame.

The deep,

Still vision of her gaze was never word to name.

She names it not herself,

Nor knows what goal may be its will.

While cow-bells chime and alphorn blows,

It bears her where the sunset glows,

Or may be further still.

Too brief thy life on highland walls,

Where close the glaciers jut.

Too soon the snowstorm's cloak enfolds stone-byre and pine-log hut.

Then wilt thou ply with hearth ablaze,

The winter's well-worn tasks.

But spin thy wool with cheerful face,

One sunset in the mountain pays,

For all their winter asks.

Meet your Teacher

Kristen EstillSanta Fe, NM, USA

4.9 (8)

Recent Reviews

LisaNanda

November 21, 2025

Very beautiful. Thank you so much. You have great taste in poems. !🙏🙏🙏💚💚💚🙏🙏🙏

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© 2026 Kristen Estill. All rights reserved. All copyright in this work remains with the original creator. No part of this material may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

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