Romance (1836)
Hyrden græsser sine Faar,
Gjærdet er hans Throne,
Solen Purpur om ham slaaer,
Maanen er hans Krone.
Hvad mon vel han tænker paa?
Længe taus han stod og saae
Frem i Aftenstunden.
Hjertet veed, Kjærlighed
Er det fagreste Træ i Lunden.
Kongens Datter, stolt og fiin,
Staaer i Kongeborgen;
Silke, Guld og Hermelin
Skjule ikke Sorgen.
Tanken, som en Fugl saa let,
Flyver, bliver aldrig træt,
Synger: „Jeg har funden!”
Hjertet veed, Kjærlighed
Er det fagreste Træ i Lunden.
Vind og Blomst, svar, hver især,
Kommer hun dog ikke?
Vinden hvisker: „Hun er nær!”
Blomsterne de nikke.
Skjult en Sti fra Slottet gaaer,
Fuglen høit bag Krattet slaaer:
„Han har hende funden!”
Hjertet veed, Kjærlighed
Er det fagreste Træ i Lunden.
Romance (1836)
Shepherd, his flock grazing, sits
On a throne of fencing
Round him sun deep purple fits,
Moon his crown’s dispensing.
What can he be wondering?
He has long sat, pondering
What soon night has covered.
Heart knows well, love excels
In beauty grove’s trees and all others.
King’s fine daughter, full of pride,
In his castle’s pining;
Ermine, silk and gold can’t hide
What her heart’s confining.
Thought, as light as any bird,
Flies untiring, onwards spurred,
Calls out: ‘I’ve discovered!’
Heart knows well, love excels
In beauty grove’s trees and all others.
Wind and flower, allay my fear,
Won’t she come to cheer me?
Wind then whispers: ‘She is near!’
Flowers nod oh so clearly.
There’s a royal path scrub conceals,
From above the bird reveals
‘He has her discovered!’
Heart knows well, love excels
In beauty grove’s trees and all others.
No comments:
Post a Comment