Jakob Knudsen: 'Morgensang'

 

Morgensang

 

Sé, nu stiger Solen af Havets Skjød,

Luft og Bølge blusser i Brand, i Glød;

Hvilken salig Jubel, skjønt Alt er tyst,

Medens Lyset lander paa Verdens Kyst.

 

Jeg vil aande Luften i fulde Drag,

Synge Gud en Sang for den lyse Dag,

Takke ham, at Morgnen mig end er sød,

At mig Dagen fryder, trods Synd og Død.

 

Takke ham, som gav mig, naar Sol staar op,

Selv at føle Morgen i Sjæl og Krop,

At al Mørkhed svinder og Sjælevé,

Blot jeg trygt vil sige: Din Vilje ské!

 

O, at jeg tør favne Dig, skære Dag,

Kalde Dig med Navne, min Sjæls Behag,

Alle gode Navne, som bedst jeg véd:

Moder, Søster, Elskte: min Kjærlighed!

 

Lysvæld bag ved Lysvæld i Himlen ind,

Did, hvorfra den kommer nu, Morgnens Vind,

Ret, som om den aanded af Lyset ud — —

O, Du milde Fader, min Skaber, Gud!

 

Lad mig nu kun drage ad natmørkt Hav,

Lad mig ikkun stævne imod min Grav:

Livets Gud mig skjærmer, jeg er hans Barn,

Ud hans Haand mig river af Dødens Garn.

 

Sé, da stiger Solen af Hav paany,

Alle Dødens Skygger for evig fly,

O, for Sejers-Jubel, for salig Lyst:

Lyset stander stille paa Livets Kyst!

 

 

Morning Song

 

Look, the sun ascends from sea’s firm embrace,

Air and waves catch fire and are soon ablaze;

What sublime rejoicing, though silence reigns

While the light descends onto world’s far plains.

 

I will breathe this air as my soul takes flight, 

Sing a song to God for day’s kindled light,

Thank Him that the morning still thrills my breath

And day brings me joy, despite sin and death.

 

Thank Him, who at sunrise made me feel whole,

Sense the morning deep in my heart and soul,

And that dark and anguish will soon be gone

Should I simply utter, Thy will be done.

 

Oh, that I dare hold you so close, clear day,

Call you by your names, which my pains allay,

All the finest names only I know best:

Mother, sister, darling: my love most blessed!

 

Floods of bright light seem to invade the sky,

Cast back by the morning wind’s every sigh,

As if light exhaling to whence it came –

Oh, God my creator, praised be Thy name!

 

Let my ship now bear me through night’s dark sea,

To my grave be solely transporting me:

Life’s God will protect me, his child am I,

From death’s snare He’ll pluck me when time is nigh.

 

Look, the sun ascends from the sea anew,

All death’s shadows scatters like morning dew;

Oh, what cries of triumph, what joys untold:

On life’s coast light’s shining in changeless gold!