My favourite dale
Where are you, much-loved spot! what is your name?
Where in the world shall I you e’er discover?
When will you bind me and my wishes’ flame
For ever to your arms as if a lover?
My childhood’s lovely dream – you dale unknown!
Where amongst roses I’ll my hut be raising:
When shall I hear your sources tumbling down?
When shall I feel your shadows’ warm embracing?
Where are you, lake! with your fine leaf-fringed shore?
And with your clear waves’ gentle, peaceful lapping?
Where are you, grove! my resting-place and more,
With your dense foliage’s murmured tapping?
Where are you, hut, with your reed roof of thatch?
With the green leaves of tall birch trees spread over;
With your small windows and low door that match,
Where raspberry canes for white walls offer cover.
Where, all around my hidden favourite spot,
There is a thickly wooded chain of mountains,
And, down between their clefts into my plot,
A trickling stream purls, serving as its fountain.
And with me will night’s singer too reside,
And I, entranced, will hear her voice regaling;
And she my joy, my rest, will then spread wide
When my heart’s fulness hears my weak voice failing.
There will the early dawn at break of day
Observe me speeding to my country labour
There will the sun as daylight fades away
To me, tired farmer, smile as to a neighbour.
And when I my much longed-for home regained,
I’d my beloved wife and children be embracing,
And at my frugal table sense again
A glad and trusty friend, one ne’er forsaking.
I now have sought this dale out far and near,
But as yet nowhere have I ever found it:
And this is why I’ve often shed a tear
And my heart suffers grief which does confound it.
I see that yonder clouds are drawing close,
The storm’s dark sides it is no longer hiding.
Around me thunder’s rolling grows morose,
Behind the storm clouds the red sun’s now sliding.
And so farewell, my childhood’s lovely dream!
The merciless stern voice of fate arraigns me!
I’m whirled off in my life’s fast-flowing stream,
Stretch out my arms to you, but do so vainly.
To see the poem in the original Danish, go to here.
No comments:
Post a Comment