BIRDSONG – IBSEN

(Translated by John Northam)

Fredag 4. mars 2022: BIRDSONG (Sang nr 184)
Tekst: Henrik Ibsen (Translated by John Northam)
Melodi: Harald

 

Hurra for Henrik! (Ibsen)
Dette er andre gang jeg samarbeider med Ibsen. Han er kjempe-enkel å jobbe sammen med!
Måtte justere diktet litt, men jeg tror Henrik syns det er helt ok.

BIRDSONG

One fine spring day we ventured

To stroll the avenue;

Beguiling as a riddle

It was forbidden too.

 

And west the wind that wafted,

So blue the sky that hung;

A mother-bird perched in the lime

Sat singing to her young.

 

I painted poem-pictures –

With festive colour-play,

I painted poem-pictures

With festive colour-play,

 

All in vain

 

And we heard whispered laughter

Above our heads, quite plain

But we took a fine farewell,

And never met again.

 

And west the wind that wafted,

So blue the sky that hung;

A mother-bird perched in the lime

Sat singing to her young.

 

I painted poem-pictures

With festive colour-play,

 

All in vain