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Bjørnson, Bjørnstjerne: Venevil (Venevil in English)

Portre of Bjørnson, Bjørnstjerne

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Venevil (Norwegian)

Hun Venevil hopped' på letten fod
  sin kjærest' imod.
Han sang, så det hørtes over kirketag:
  "God dag! god dag!"
Og alle de småfugle sang lystig med i lag:
  "Til sanktehans
  er der latter og dans;
men siden ved jeg lidet, om hun fletter sin krans!"

Hun fletted' ham en af de blomster blå:
  -- "Mine øjne små!"
Han tog den, han kasted' og tog den igjen:
  "Farvel, min ven!"
og jubled', mens han sprængte over agerrenen hen:
  "Til sanktehans
  er der latter og dans;
men siden ved jeg lidet, om hun fletter sin krans!"

Hun fletted' ham en: "Hvis du ej forsmår,
  af mit gule hår?"
Hun fletted' hun bød ham i ypperlig stund
  sin røde mund.
Han tog den, og han fik den, og han rødmede som hun.

Hun fletted' en hvid i et liljebånd:
  "Min højre hånd."
Hun fletted' en blodrød i kjærlighed:
  "Min venstre med."
Han tog imod dem begge to, men vendte sig derved.

Hun fletted' af blomster fra hver en kant:
  "Alle dem, jeg fandt!"
Hun sanked', hun fletted' og gråt dertil:
  "Tag dem, du vil!"
Han tiede og tog dem blot, men flygtede så vild.

Hun fletted' en stor uden farvesans:
  "Min brudekrans!"
Hun fletted', så fingrene bleve blå:
  "Sæt du den på!"
Men da hun skulde vende sig, hun ingensteds ham så.

Hun fletted' modig foruden stans
  på sin brudekrans.
Men nu var det langt over sanktehans,
  ingen blomster fandt's.
Hun fletted' af de blomster, som slet ikke fandt's!
  "Til sanktehans
  er der latter og dans;
men siden ved jeg lidet, om hun fletter sin krans."



Uploaded byP. T.
Source of the quotationhttp://www.lieder.net

Venevil (English)

Fair Venevil hastened with tripping feet
  Her lover to meet.
He sang, so it rang o'er the church far away:
  "Good-day! Good-day!"
And all the little birds sang right merrily their lay:
  "Midsummer Day
  Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"

She twined him a wreath of the flowers blue:
  "My eyes for you!"
He tossed it and caught it and to her did bend:
  "Good-by, my friend!"
And loudly he exulted at the field's far distant end:
  "Midsummer Day
  Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"

She twined him a wreath: "Do at all you care
  For my golden hair?"
She twined one, and gave in life's hour so rare
  Her red lips' pair;
He took them and he pressed them, and he blushed as she did there.

She twined one all white as a lily-band:
  "'T is my right hand."
She twined one blood-red, with her love in each strand:
  "'T is my left hand."
He took them both and kept them both, but would not understand.

She twined of the flowers that bloomed around
  "Every one I found!"
She gathered and twined, while tears would her eyes fill:
  "Take them you will!"
In silence then he took them, but to flight he turned him still.

She twined one so large, of discordant hue:
  "My bride's-wreath true!"
She twined it and twined, till her fingers were sore:
  "Crown me, I implore!"
But when she turned, he was not there, she never saw him more.

She twined yet undaunted without a stay
  At her bride's-array.
But now it was long past the Midsummer Day,
  All the flowers away:
She twined it of the flowers, though they all were now away!
  "Midsummer Day
Brings us laughter and play;
But later know I little, if she twines her wreath so gay!"



Uploaded byP. T.
Source of the quotationhttp://poetrynook.com/poem/venevil

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