The Child
Father! Within the forest's bound
No bird I found,
No sound of song the woods around.
The Father
The bird that glad his song us gave,
Flies o'er the wave;
Perhaps he there will find his grave.
The Child
But why does he not wait till later?
The Father
He goes where light and warmth are greater.
The Child
Father! It selfish seems to me,
Far off to flee,
When all we others here must be.
The Father
With new-born spring comes new-born song;
By instinct strong
The better new he’ll bring erelong.
The Child
But if in death the cold waves swallow — ?
The Father
Others will come; his kin will follow.
Björnstjerne Björnson (1832–1910) Norway
Translated by Arthur Hubbell Palmer
Source: Poems and songs by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, Arthur Hubbell Palmer, The American-Scandinavian foundation, 1915
Father! Within the forest's bound
No bird I found,
No sound of song the woods around.
The Father
The bird that glad his song us gave,
Flies o'er the wave;
Perhaps he there will find his grave.
The Child
But why does he not wait till later?
The Father
He goes where light and warmth are greater.
The Child
Father! It selfish seems to me,
Far off to flee,
When all we others here must be.
The Father
With new-born spring comes new-born song;
By instinct strong
The better new he’ll bring erelong.
The Child
But if in death the cold waves swallow — ?
The Father
Others will come; his kin will follow.
Björnstjerne Björnson (1832–1910) Norway
Translated by Arthur Hubbell Palmer
Source: Poems and songs by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, Arthur Hubbell Palmer, The American-Scandinavian foundation, 1915
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