Digterens Gravskrift over sig selv
Han aad og drak, var aldrig glad,
Hans Støvlehæle gik han skieve;
Han ingen Ting bestille gad,
Tilsidst han gad ei heller leve.
The poet’s epitaph upon himself
He ate and drank, was never glad,
He wore his boot heels down one side;
Ambition – that he never had,
And finally just upped and died.
