Friday, 14 January 2011

A poem by the Danish poet Emil Aarestrup (1800-56)

ERKJENDELSE

At ikke jeg forlængst har hængt mig
Om hendes Hals, om hendes Knæ,
Og i mit Raserie har vovet -
Ja, hun maa troe, jeg er af Træ.

Men det er jeg paa ingen Maade;
O, gid jeg bare var af Træ!
Men, jeg er lidt moralsk, lidt dydig,
Og derfor egentlig et Fæ.


ADMISSION

That long ago my arms have never
Around her neck or knees been thrown,
Despite my turmoil nothing ventured -
Yes, she must think I’m made of stone.

Yet quite the opposite describes me;
Oh, if I only were of stone!
Instead, I’m just a trifle prudish,
A stupid ass when all is done.

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