Two surprises came when I saw this poem. Firstly that it was Norwegian - I knew it from an EP recorded way back in the 1960s by the Danish singer Frode Veddinge. Secondly that the author was none other than Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson:
Kjærlighetsvise
Holder du av mig,
holder jeg av dig
alle mine levedage;
sommeren var kort,
græsset blegner bort,
kommer med vor lek tilbage.
Hvad du sa ifjor,
husker jeg i år,
sitter som en fugl i karmen,
kakker på og slår,
synger litt og spår
lykke under solevarmen.
Litli-litli-lu!
Hører du mig nu,
gutten bakved bjørkehejen?
Ordene vil gå, —
mørket faller på,
kanske du kan vise vejen.
Sjo-i, sjo-i, hyss!
sang jeg om en kyss? —
Nej, det gjorde jeg visst ikke.
Hørte du det, du?
kom det ej i hu, —
jeg vil lade avbud skikke.
Å, god nat, god nat!
drømmen har mig fat,
den om dine milde øjne
og de tause ord,
som av kroken fór, —
å, de vare så forfløjne!
Nu jeg lukker til.
Er det mer, du vil?
Tonerne tilbake trille, —
lokker mig og ler, —
vilde du mig mer?
Aftnen er så varm og stille.
Love song
If you love me true,
I will love you too
till my days on earth are over;
summer hurried past,
grass pales far too fast,
through our play we them recover.
What you said last year
I recall so clear,
like a bird outside it’s sitting,
on my pane it raps,
chirps, predicts perhaps
sun-warmed joy that’s unremitting.
Littly-littly-loo!
Can you hear me coo,
lad behind the birch-hedge hiding?
Words will fade away, –
night now follows day,
maybe you can do the guiding.
Shoo-ee, shoo-ee, miss!
did I say a kiss? —
No, a word like that confuses.
That’s what your ear caught?
pay it not a thought, —
I will send you my excuses.
Oh, good night, good night!
sleep now holds me tight,
your mild eyes I dream of nightly
and the words unsaid,
that escaped and fled, —
scatterbrained they flew so lightly!
Now it’s time to close.
No more words than those?
All the notes the air’s retrieving, —
how they tempt me sore, —
are you out for more?
Such a warm and tranquil evening.
No comments:
Post a Comment