One lovely day in springtime
We paced the avenue;
As some dark riddle draws one
The place forbidden drew.
The sky was blue above us;
The wind was in the west;
A bird sat singing in the limes
To young ones in the nest.
I painted poet-pictures
Of bright-hued fantasy;
Two brown eyes laughed and listened
And sparkled back at me.
A twitter and a titter
O'erhead we heard it plain:
But we, we bade a sweet good-bye,
And never met again. . . .
And when, alone and lonely,
I pace the avenue,
They leave me no peace nor quiet,
The little feathered crew.
We did not dream Dame Sparrow
Had spied on us, and soon
She made a song about us
And put it to a tune.
Now every bird has caught it
That has a beak to sing;
The leaves are full of lays about
That shining day in spring.
Henrik Johan Ibsen (1828 - 1906) Norway
Translated by Fydell Edmund Garrett
Source: Lyrics & poems from Ibsen, Translated by Fydell Edmund Garrett, J.M. Dent & Son, 1912
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