|
|
The Dove (From Halte Hulda)
By Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson
I saw a dove fear-daunted,
By howling storm-blast driven;
Where waves their power vaunted,
From land it had been riven.
No cry nor moan it uttered,
I heard no plaint repeated;
In vain its pinions fluttered -
It had to sink, defeated.
Extra Info: TRANSLATED FROM THE NORWEGIAN IN THE ORIGINAL METERS BY ARTHUR HUBBELL PALMER
Professor of the German Language and Literature In Yale University
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 196 times.
|
|