The Norwegian

(Ivar Aasens dikt "Nordmannen" omsett til engelsk av Kjetil Myskja, 2002)

Between cliffs and the billowing breakers
The Norwegian of old found his home
A foundation he laid in these acres
His own hands raised his house from the loam.
He looked out on the boulder-strewn beaches,
Not a settlement was there in sight.
‘Let’s build farms and clear fields in these reaches,
Thus we win them to be ours by right.’
He saw seas that the storm tore asunder
The rough waves made them risky to row
Yet the fish had their passage thereunder
And their ways he was eager to know.
In the winter he might fall to pining:
‘That I were in a sunnier part!’
But when sun in the springtime was shining
Then his homeland grew dear to his heart.
And when fields are like gardens in May-time,
When each hillside is leafy and green,
And when midnight grows light like in daytime
Nowhere else has such beauty he seen.

Frå Kjetil Myskja: Ivar Aasen's poetry, 2002. Elektronisk utgåve ved Nynorsk kultursentrum 2010.
Publisert med løyve frå Kjetil Myskja.

Sjå også eiga temaside om "Nordmannen".