Luft-Egn
Mel. Carnevalet i Venedig.
Vi flyve over Skyen,
See ned paa Land og Stad;
Rødtaget ligger Byen,
Som kogte Krebs paa Fad!
Jeg har en deilig Kikkert,
Jeg øiner Alt hvad skeer!
Og man seer Alting sikkert,
Naar ovenfra man seer.
Europa som en Jomfru,
Passere vi forbi,
See Spanien er Hoved,
Hun er catholsk deri.
I Frankrig sidder Hjertet,
Det har man mig fortalt.
Og Tydskland det er Maven,
Men der – der er det galt!
Nu seer man kun af Jorden
En lille sølet Egn,
Det er vist Kongens Nytorv,
Hvor der er faldet Regn.
Men siig mig, hvad er dette,
Der flyver som Vind forbi,
O, det er Mængdens Mening,
Der er ingenting deri.
(Fra Skuespillet ’Meer end Perler og Guld’, 1849)
Aerial domain
Mel. The Carnival in Venice
Above the clouds we’re flying,
Town, country alternate;
Red-roofed there lies the city
Like boiled crabs on a plate!
My telescope is handy,
Reveals all that takes place!
And things are seen more clearly
When one looks down through space.
Europe’s just like a maiden
That we’re now passing by –
Look, Spain’s her head, all muzzy
And Catholic inside.
And France is where her heart is,
So people all profess.
And Germany her stomach,
But what an awful mess!
Now all one sees of earth is
A mucky small domain,
It must be Kongens Nytorv
That’s had a lot of rain.
But tell me, what is this then
That shoots off far and wide,
Oh, popular opinion,
With just nothing there inside.
(From the play ‘More than Pearls and Gold’, 1849)
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