Page upon the battlement,
In the distance staring,
On a song of love intent,
But he by the ending humbled
Sat and fumbled
Now with stars, and now with roses,
Naught that made a rhyme with roses,
He set in despair his horn to his mouth,
Clutched his falchion featly,
So his love he clarioned forth
O'er every mountain sweetly.
Jens Peter Jacobsen (1847 - 1885) Denmark
Translated by P. Selver
Source: Poems By J. P. Jacobsen Translated from the Danish by P. Selver, Sheldonian Reprints, Basil Blackwell, 1920 (First published 1889)
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