Short Poems

Her i Tid, og hist i Evighed,
Eet er eene nødigt: Kiærlighed.

Sangen, Skialden afbrød i Danfana,
Misforstaaet af Tidens Phantasie,
Nu, han veed, ham Nordens Aand staaer bi,
Han fuldender, sukkende, til Dana -
Dana! Dana! Føl hans Sværmerie!

On the sand the great works of the human race are built,
and like a little child Time wrecks them with his foot.

Soldier, why do you shrink from the hiss of the hungry lead?
The bullet that whizzed is past; the approaching ball is dumb.
Stand straight! you cannot shrink from Fate: let it come!
A comrade in front may hear it whiz—when you are dead.

He lived fifty two years
following strictly the rules of health.

His brother Kesmat Ali lived eighty years
smoking punctually.

Despiteful thus unto myself, I languish,
And in disdain, myself from joy I banish,
These secret thoughts enwrap me so in anguish,
That life, I hope. will soon from body vanish;
And to some rest will quickly be conveyed,
That on no joy, while so I liv’d, hath stayed.

Like beautiful bodies of the dead, who had not grown old
and they shut them with tears, in a magnificent mausoleum,
with roses at the head and jasmine at the feet --
that is how desires look that have passed
without fultillment; without one of them having achieved
a night of sensual delight, or a moonlit morn.

Maidens with voices like honey for sweetness, that breathe desire,
See I faint; for no sea-bird I, as I would be, nor tire
Over the foam-flowers flying with halcyons ever on wing,
Keeping a careless heart, a sea-blue bird of the Spring.

Der raader i det lyse Hotel
en Fred som i et Kloster.
Man spørger ej her, hvad det koster;
thi Værten vil Gæsternes Vel.

Your influence, my friend, has gathered head
To east and west its tides encroaching spread.
There'll be, on all God's foot-stool, when they meet,
No clean spot left for God to set His feet.