Morgen
Det var morgen i sommerens sø-
Fiskene kom med aabne munde.
Og den glødende solkugle,
sænket herned af medemanden,
løsnede latteren mellem det grønne,
saa den steg op som perler,
som blanke ingentings-kloder
mod dagen – og brast.
Morning
It was morning in summer’s still lake.
Fishes came their mouths wide-open.
And the bright-glowing sun-orb now
lowered down here by heaven’s angler,
loosened the laughter among all the greenness
so it rose up as pearls, as
small gleaming globules of nothing,
climbed daywards – and burst.
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