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").

Song Of Freedom To

Freedom's father-power strong,Freedom's mother-wrath and song.Giant-stout, a youth self-taught,Soon a giant's work he wrought.Ever he, full of..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

The Spinner

Oh, what was it he meantBy his question as he went?'I am making a loom,'T will be up in April's bloom;If you think it may be,Spin for me!'Oh, what..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Mountain Song

When you will the mountains roamAnd your pack are making,Put therein not much from home,Light shall be your taking!Drag no valley-fetters strongTo..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Hymn Of The Puritans

Arm me, Lord, my strength redouble,Heaven open, heed my trouble!God, if my cause Thine shall be,Grant a day of victory!Fell all Thy foes now!Fell all..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

To Johan Dahl, Bookdealer

(On His Sixtieth Birthday)Our glasses we lift now and drink to our host!'Hurrah!'Give heed to our ditty, we sing you our toast!'Aha!'The first thing..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

The Day Of Sunshine

It was such a lovely sunshine-day,The house and the yard couldn't hold me;I roved to the woods, on my back I lay,In cradle of fancy rolled me;But..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

P. A. Munch

Many forms belong to greatness.He who now has left us bore itAs a doubt that made him sleepless,But at last gave revelation,-As a sight-enhancing..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

The Maiden On The Shore

She wandered so young on the shore around,Her thoughts were by naught on earth now bound.Soon came there a painter, his art he pliedAbove the tide,In..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Song For Norway National Hymn

Yes, we love this land that towersWhere the ocean foams;Rugged, storm-swept, it embowersMany thousand homes.Love it, love it, of you thinking,Father;..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Our Language

Thou, who sailest Norse mountain-air,And Denmark's songs by the cradle singest,Who badest in Hald the war-flames flare,And, heard in our children's..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Workmen's March

Left foot! Right foot! Lines unbroken!Keeping time is power's token.That makesoneof many, many,That makes bold, if fear daunts any,That makes small..

© 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

May Seventeenth

Wergeland's statue on May seventeenthSaw the procession. And as its rear-guard,Slow marching masses,Strong men, and women with flower-decked..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Lambkin Mine

Kille, kille, lambkin mine,Though it often be hard to climbOver the rocks upswinging,Follow thy bell's sweet ringing!Kille, kille, lambkin mine,Take..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

To Sculptor Borch

(On his fiftieth birthday)With friends you stalwart stand and fair,To-day of fifty years the heir;The past your works rejoicing praise,But forward..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

The Angels Of Sleep

Asleep the child fellWhen night cast its spell;The angels came nearWith laughter and cheer.Her watch at its waking the mother was keeping:'How sweet..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Over The Lofty Mountains

Wonder I must, what I once may seeOver the lofty mountains!Eyes shall meet only snow, may be;Standing here, each evergreen treeOver the heights is..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Our Forefathers

High memories with powerShine through the wintry NorthOn every peak's white tower,On Kattegat so swarth.All is so still and spacious, `The..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

To A Godson

(With an album containing portraits of all those who at the time ofhis birth were leaders in the intellectual and political world.)Here hast thou..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Synnove's Song

Have thanks for all from our childhood's day,Our play together in woodland roaming.I thought that play would go on for aye,Though life should pass to..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

In The Forest

List to the forest-voice murmuring low:All that it saw when alone with its laughter,All that it suffered in times that came after,Mournful it tells..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Old Heltberg

I went to a school that was little and proper,Both for church and for state a conventional hopper,Feeding rollers that ground out their grist..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Young Men And Women, Strong And Sound

Young men and women, strong and sound,Adorn with beautiful excessOf play and song and flower-dressOur fatherland's ancestral ground.They dream great..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Sin, Death

Sin and Death, those sisters two,Two, two,Sat together while dawned the morning.Sister, marry! Your house will do,Do, do,For me, too, was Death's..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

To Missionary Skrefsrud In Santalistan

I honor you, who, though refused, affronted,Have heard the voice, and victory have won;I honor you, who still by malice hunted,Show miracles of faith..

© Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson