So light is love, in matchless beauty shining,
When she revisits Cypris' hallow'd bowers,
Two feeble doves, harness'd in silken twining,
Can draw her chariot 'midst the Paphian flowers.
Lightness to love, how ill it fitteth,
So heavy on my heart, O! on my heart he sitteth.
So fair is she!
So fair her face
So fair her pulsing figure
Not so fair
The maniacal stare
Of a husband who's much bigger.
O all ye exorcizers come and exorcize now, and ye clergymen draw nigh and clerge, For I wish to be purged of an urge. It is an irksome urge, compounded of nettles and glue, And it is turning all my friends back into acquaintances, and all my acquaintances into people who look the other way when I heave into view.
Look up . . .
From bleakening hills
Blows down the light, first breath
Of wintry wind . . . look up, and scent
The snow!
He glides so swiftly
Back into the grass-
Gives me the courtesy of road
To let me pass,
That I am half ashamed
To seek a stone
To kill him.
Mother and father gave birth to a snail
Night and day I crawl in smelly weeds
Dear prince, if you love me, unfasten my door
Stop, don't poke your finger up my tail!
Du hendes skjønne Tænder „Perler" kalder, -
Ja, Lignelsen er træffende igrunden,
Og det er ofte, naar hun aabner Munden,
Som — Østersen, der aabner sine Skaller!
Sindet forfriskes, Tanken beriges;
O kun i fattige Ord det udsiges:
Deiligt at flyve og juble i Vrimlen;
Tak for min Lykke, Fader i Himlen!
On the lips of the child Janet float changing dreams.
It is a thin spiral of blue smoke,
A morning campfire at a mountain lake.
On the lips of the child Janet,
Wisps of haze on ten miles of corn,
Young light blue calls to young light gold of morning.
'T is better to sit here beside the sea,
Here on the spray-kissed beach,
In silence, that between such friends as we
Is full of deepest speech.
