Malerie fra Vestkysten
Man seer ei Træ, ei Busk, selv Lyngen vil ei groe,
Fra Sandet pipper frem et Græsstraae eller to;
Sandklitter reise sig, de vexle Dag for Dag,
Og rundtom stikke frem de nøgne, sorte Vrag.
Foruden Grændse Havet udstrakt for os staaer,
Speilklart og glat det er, saa langt som Øiet naaer,
Strandbredden er belagt med Stene, store, smaae,
Og alle runded’ smukt, see, røde, hvide, blaae!
Hist komme Fiskere, de gaae til Havet froe;
En herlig Slægt det er, med Marv i hver en Kno.
Nu læses først en Bøn, fromt folder sig hver Haand,
Saa ile de med Christ, Gud og den hellig Aand.
Painting from the West Coast of Jutland
No tree, no bush, not even heather does one view,
From sand there peeps but a lone blade of grass or two
Sand dunes tower up, but change position day by day.
And naked, charcoal shipwrecks stick out like dead prey.
Before us stretches out the vast unbounded sea,
It’s mirror-smooth and clear as far as we can see,
The shore is strewn with stones, large, small, of changing hue,
All beautifully rounded, look – red, white and blue!
Now come the fishermen, with joy the sea they view;
So marvellous a breed, each bone well-marrowed too.
A short prayer first is said, with folded hands they pray.
Now armed with God, Christ, Holy Ghost they haste away.
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