• Язык:
    Новонорвежский (Nynorsk)



Som barn elska eg enger store
som søte av honning låg,
i skogsnar var eg på sporet
av oksehorn gøymde blant strå.

Kvar busk, grå i vegkantstøvet,
ropte: «Eg leiker med deg,
gå varsamt ikring meg, prøv meg,
og eg seier kven eg er, eg!»

Den haustlige, ville vinden
lét leiken ta slutt da den kvein,
og hjartet slo lenger inne
i lykka, og eg var ikkje ein

Som døde, for vennene mine
borre og hestehov var,
og bakom himlane hine
vil eg brått gjette alle svar.
Og derfor er det eg elskar
den tordnande leiken krig:
vårt blod er ikkje meir heilagt
enn smaragd som i grassevja stig.

Другие переводы:

  • Английский
    Бартон Раффел, Алла Бураго
  • Артур Лехман
  • Польский
    Тадеуш Рубникович
  • Чешский
    Ярослав Кабичек
  • Мария Марчанова

А вот еще:

By the fireplace

The shadows gathered... The fire dwindled, / Standing alone, he gazed through the window, / / Arms folded, eyes fixed on the distance, / He spoke of his sadness with bitter persistence: / / "I’ve entered the depths of the lands yet unknown, / My caravan moved eighty days in a...


Over the reeds of the tardy Nile, / Where only butterflies and birds / Are found, hides a forgotten tomb / Of a culpable but enchanting queen. / / The nightly mist carries its own deceit, / The moon rises, as a sinful siren, / A pale fog streaks through, / And from a cave, skulks a ...

The Sick Man

In my delirium, only the endlessness / Of some sharp lines plagues me, / And the bell incessantly tolls / As a clock, striking eternity. / / It seems to me, that after death it’s how, / With an agonising hope of resurrection, / The eyes get fixed on the surrounding murk, / See...


As a child, I liked big, / Honey-scented meadows, / Groves, dry grass, / And in the grass, bovine horns. / / Every wayside shrub shouted / To me: "I’m playing with you, / Pass me by carefully / And you shall know who I am!" / / Only the savage autumn wind, / Howling, wo...

African Night

Midnight descended, impenetrable darkness, / Only the river glistens from the moon, / And across the river, an unknown tribe, / Lighting its fires, makes noise. / / Tomorrow we shall meet and find out / Who is to become the ruler of these parts; / They are helped by a black stone, / ...


Your eyes look at me with especial sadness today, / Your arms give the knees an especially fragile embrace. / Now listen, along Lake Chad’s shore, far away, / An exquisite giraffe makes its pace. / / He’s gracefully slender, with heavenly joy he is blessed, / His skin is ado...