• Язык:
    Новонорвежский (Nynorsk)

Elefantungen

Слонёнок

Ein elefantunge som elskar deg,
fødd er han i Berlin eller Paris,
han stampar rundt med vattfjørande steg
heime hos dyrehagedirektøren.

By han ikkje franske croissantar,
by han ikkje gamle, seige kålblad,
ein mandarinbåt berre kan han ete,
ein sukkerbete eller ein konfekt.

Gråt ikkje, snille deg, når påfunn gjør han
til lått for bermen i det trange buret,
når dei blæs sigarrrøyk opp i nasen hans,
betjentane, til hyl frå midinetter.

Tenk ikkje, kjære, at ein dag vil komme
da sinnet fer i han, og han riv sund
lenka, og spring i byen, som ein buss
tar til å velte skrikarar for fote.

Nei, la han komme i ein morgondrøm
i koppar og brokade, strutsefjør,
som han, den majestetiske, som bar
Hannibal mot Rom som skalv i grunnen.

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