Section: «Poems»

Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings: artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.); a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").

The Pure Norwegian Flag

ITri-colored flag, and pure,Thou art our hard-fought cause secure;Thor's hammer-mark of mightThou bearest blue in Christian white,And all our hearts'..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Per Bo

Once I knew a noble peasantFrom a line of men large-hearted.Light and strength were in his mind,Lifted like a peak clear-linedO'er the valley in..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Ingerid Sletten

Ingerid Sletten of SillejordNeither gold nor silver did own,But a little hood of gay wool alone,Her mother had given of yore.A little hood of gay..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Open Water!

Open water, open water!All the weary winter's yearningBursts in restless passion burning.Scarce is seen the blue of ocean,And the hours seem months..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

When Norway Would Not Help

When Kattegat now or the Belt you sail,No more will you sightThe Danish proud frigate, no more will you hailThe red and white;No more will the..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Psalms

II seem to beSundered from Thee,Thou Harmony of all creation.Am I disownedFor talents loanedAnd useless hid in vain probation?Now powerless,In..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

The Princess

The princess looked down from her bower high,The youth blew his horn as he lingered thereby."Be quiet, O youth, will forever you blow?It hinders my..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Venevil

Fair Venevil hastened with tripping feetHer lover to meet.He sang, so it rang o'er the church far away:"Good-day! Good-day!"And all the little birds..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

The Mother's Song

Lord! Oh, hold in Thy hand my child,Guard by the river its playing!Send Thou Thy Spirit as comrade mild,Lest it be lost in its straying!Deep is the..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

To My Father (Upon His Retirement)

In all the land our race was once excelling.In richer regions it e'en now possessesBroad seats and fruitful; but by fate's hard stressesOurbranch was..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Anton Martin Schweigaard (In The Church After The Funeral Oration)

Give us, God, to Thee now turning,Fullness of joy, tears full and burning,Of will the full refining fire!Hear our prayer o'er his inurning:His will..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

The White Rose And The Red Rose

The white rose and the red rose,So sisters two were named, yes, named.The white one was so quiet,The red one laughed and flamed.But different was..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

A Meeting

… O'er uplands fresh swift sped my sleigh…A light snow fell; along the wayStood firs and birches slender.The former pondered deep, alone,The latter..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

At A Banquet For Professor Ludv. Kr. Daa

Youthful friends here a circle form,Elder foes now surrender.Feel among us in safety, warm,Toward you our hearts are tender.Once again on a..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

During A Journey In Sweden

My boyish heart in thee confided,For to the great by thee 't was guided.As man, my waiting is for thee,-The Northern cause with thee, with thee!Rich..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

From Monte Pincio

Evening is coming, the sun waxes red,Radiant colors from heaven are beamingLife's lustrous longings in infinite streaming;-Glory in death o'er the..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Good Morning

Day's coming up now, joy's returned,Sorrow's dark cloud-castles captured and burned;Over the mountain-tops glowingLight-king his armies is..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

For The Wounded

A still procession goesAmid the battle's booming,Its arm the red cross shows;It prays in many forms of speech,And, bending o'er the fallen,Brings..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

For A Charity Fair

Some poor man in needTo bless and to feed,I bring at its worth,This day of my birth,A book,-from my youth I must own.But Who in His powerGave bud and..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Forward

'Forward! forward!'Rang our fathers' battle-cry.'Forward! forward!'Norsemen, be our watchword high!All that fires the spirit and makes the heart's..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Frida

Frida, I knew that thy life-years were counted.If but before thee a lifting thought mounted,Upward thy gaze turned all wistful to view it,As wouldst..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

My Fatherland

I will fight for my land,I will work for my land,Will it foster with love, in my faith, in my child.I will eke every gain,I will seek boot for..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Frederik Hegel

IDedicationYou never came here; but I goHere often and am met by you.Each room and road here must renewThe thought of you and your form showStanding..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Good Cheer

So let these songs their story tellTo all who in the Northland dwell,Since many friends request it.(That Finland's folk with them belongIn the wide..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

At Michael Sars's Grave

Ever he would roamToward th' eternal home;From the least life deep in oceanTo each gleam of stars in motion,Worth of all he weighed.Now the Lord..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson