Monday, 25 June 2018

The Princess - Björnstjerne Björnson

The princess sat lone in her maiden bower,
The lad blew his horn at the foot of the tower.
“Why playest thou alway? Be silent, I pray,
It fetters my thoughts that would flee far away,
          As the sun goes down.”

In her maiden bower sat the Princess forlorn,
The lad had ceased to play on his horn.
“Oh, why art thou silent? I beg thee to play!
It gives wings to my thought that would flee far away,
          As the sun goes down.”

In her maiden bower sat the Princess forlorn,
Once more with delight played the lad on his horn.
She wept as the shadows grew long, and she sighed:
“Oh, tell me, my God, what my heart doth betide,
          Now the sun has gone down.”

Björnstjerne Björnson (1832–1910) Norway
Translated by by Nathan Haskell Dole
Source: The World’s Best Poetry, ed. by Bliss Carman, et al. Philadelphia: John D. Morris & Co., 1904

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