| Thøger Larsens danske oversættelse | Edward FitzGerald's oversættelser |
I (A 1)
Vaagn op! En Morgen slyngede paany
den Sten, for hvilken alle Stjerner fly.
Og Jægeren fra Øst har fanget ind
Sultanens Taarn i røde Baand af Gry. | A I.
Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight:
And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light.B I
Wake! For the Sun, who scatter'd into flight
The Stars before him from the Field of Night,
Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes
The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light. |
2 (A 2)
Jeg rørt af Dagnings venstre Haand har drømt,
en Stemme kurrede i Kroen ømt:
»Op mine smaa, og kom med eders Skaal,
før Fadet for den bedste Vin er tømt.« | A II.
Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,
"Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup
Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry."B II.
Before the phantom of False morning died,
Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried,
"When all the Temple is prepared within,
"Why nods the drowsy Worshiper outside?" |
3
Ved første Hanegal en søvnig Trop
bad udenfor: »Saa luk da Døren op!
Vor Tid er kort - er den een Gang forbi,
vi vaagner aldrig mer ved Morgen op.« | A III.
And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door.
You know how little while we have to stay,
And, once departed, may return no more."
B III.
And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door!
"You know how little while we have to stay,
And, once departed, may return no more." |
4
Nu vækker Nytaar gammel Drift af Blund -
den tankefulde fandt en ensom Stund,
mens Moses' »hvide Haand« af Vaarens Gren
sprang ud - og Jesus aanded op af Grund. | A IV.
Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
Where the white hand of Moses on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.B IV.
Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
Where the white hand of Moses on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires. |
5 (A 5, B 5)
Irám er med dens Roser sunken ned,
og Jamshyds hellige Skaal, hvor ingen veed.
Men endnu svulmer Druen som tilforn,
og mangen Have gror ved Søens Bred.
10 | A V.
Iram indeed is gone with all its Rose,
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
And still a Garden by the Water blows.B V.
Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine,
And many a Garden by the Water blows. |
6
Og David tier. Men med Kvidder fin
paa Pehlevi om »Vin, Vin, Vin - rød Vin!«
styrker en Nattergal den stille Gløds
Inkarnation i Rosernes Karmin. | A VI.
And David's Lips are lock't; but in divine
High piping Pelevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine!
Red Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That yellow Cheek of hers to'incarnadine.B VI.
And David's lips are lockt; but in divine
High-piping Pehlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine!
"Red Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That sallow cheek of hers to' incarnadine. |
7
Nu er det Foraar! Fyld vor Skaal til Rand!
Kast Angers Vinterdragt i Vaarens Brand!
Thi Tidens Fugl har kun saa kort en Vej -
og se! dens Skygge jager over Land. | A VII.
Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring
The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly--and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.B VII.
Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your Winter garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing. |
8 (B 8)
Baade i Babylon og Naishapur -
baade, naar Vin er sød, og Vin er sur -
vil Livets Drik bortsive Dryp for Dryp,
og Livets Løvfald venter al Natur. | B VIII.
Whether at Naishapur or Babylon,
Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,
The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,
The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one. |
9 (A 8)
Hver Dag vil vække Blomster, skabe Frø.
Hver Dag vil Blomster henad Jorden strø.
Vor Sommermaaned, som gav Rosen Liv,
vil lade Kaikobad og Jamshyd dø. | A VIII.
And look--a thousand Blossoms with the Day
Woke--and a thousand scatter'd into Clay:
And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose
Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.B IX.
Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say:
Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?
And this first Summer month that brings the Rose
Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away. |
10 (A 9, B 10)
Ja, lad dem dø. Og følg saa med mig, du!
Lad fare Kaikobad og Kaikhosru!
Lad Zal og Rustum prale, som de vil!
Tænk ej paa Hatims Nadver mere nu!
15 | A IX.
But come with old Khayyam, and leave the Lot
Of Kaikobad and Kaikhosru forgot:
Let Rustum lay about him as he will,
Or Hatim Tai cry Supper--heed them not.B X.
Well, let it take them! What have we to do
With Kaikobad the Great, or Kaikhosru?
Let Zal and Rustum bluster as they will,
Or Hatim call to Supper--heed not you. |
11 (A 10)
Saa vandrer vi, hvor Græsset sparsomt staar,
paa Grænsen mellem Ørk og Agres Vaar.
Hvor ingen ænser Sultan eller Træl,
ynker vi Sultan Mahmuds høje Kaar. | A X.
With me along some Strip of Herbage strown
That just divides the desert from the sown,
Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce is known,
And pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne.B XI.
With me along the strip of Herbage strown
That just divides the desert from the sown,
Where name of Slave and Sultan is forgot--
And Peace to Mahmud on his golden Throne! |
12 (A 11)
Her - kun et Brød - og under disse Træer,
lidt Vin og nogle Vers - og dig især,
dig ved min Side syngende i Ørk,
og vi har Paradis i Ørknen her. | A XI.
Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse--and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
And Wilderness is Paradise enow.B XII.
A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow! |
13 (A 12, B 13)
Hvor jordisk Magt er herlig, tænker somme.
Og andre: Vilde Paradis dog komme!
Tag Pungen i din Haand, stryg alle Krav,
agt intet Bulder fra den fjerne Tromme! | A XII.
"How sweet is mortal Sovranty!"--think some:
Others--"How blest the Paradise to come!"
Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest;
Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!B XIII.
Some for the Glories of This World; and some
Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come;
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go,
Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum! |
14
Se Rosen, hvor den ler - lyt til dens Ord:
»Latter skal fylde Verden, mens jeg gror.
Tilsidst jeg river Kvasten af min Pung
og strør dens Rigdom paa den grønne Jord.« | A XIII.
Look to the Rose that blows about us--"Lo,
Laughing," she says, "into the World I blow:
At once the silken Tassel of my Purse
Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw."B XIV.
Look to the blowing Rose about us--"Lo,
Laughing," she says, "into the world I blow,
At once the silken tassel of my Purse
Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw." |
15 (A 16)
I dette store Karavanseraj,
hvor Dag og Nat som Porte aabner sig,
sad Sultan efter Sultan i sin Pragt
sin Time eller to - og drog sin Vej.
20 | A XVI.
Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai
Whose Doorways are alternate Night and Day,
How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp
Abode his Hour or two, and went his way.B XVII.
Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai
Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day,
How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp
Abode his destined Hour, and went his way. |
16
Løven og Øglen ejer hvert Gemak,
hvor Jamshyd fordum funklede og drak.
Uænset stamper nu Vildæslets Hov,
hvor Bahram Jæger Jorden om sig trak. | A XVII.
They say the Lion and the Lizard keep
The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep:
And Bahram, that great Hunter--the Wild Ass
Stamps o'er his Head, and he lies fast asleep.B XVIII.
They say the Lion and the Lizard keep
The courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep:
And Bahram, that great Hunter--the Wild Ass
Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. |
17
Mon nogen Sinde Rosen blev saa rød
som der, hvor Kongeblod i Mulden flød.
Jeg synes, hver en Havens Hyazint
har døde Pigers Taarer i sit Skød. | A XVIII.
I sometimes think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;
That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head.B XIX.
I sometimes think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;
That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head. |
18
Og dette ømme Græs, som Vaaren nys
gav Flodens Bred, hvor vi os hviler - tys -
o, hvil dig varligt, thi maaske det sprang
fra Læber, der engang fik ømme Kys. | A XIX.
And this delightful Herb whose tender Green
Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean--
Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!B XX.
And this reviving Herb whose tender Green
Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean--
Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen! |
19
Min Elskede! Fyld Skaalen, hvor Idag
er fri for Fremtids Frygt og Fortids Nag.
Imorgen? Da er jeg kanske Mig Selv
med syv Aartusinders Igaar lagt bag. | A XX.
Ah! my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
To-day of past Regrets and future Fears-
To-morrow?--Why, To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years.B XXI.
Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
To-day of past Regrets and future Fears:
To-morrow--Why, To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years. |
20
Se - nogle, til hvis Fane dyrt vi svor,
de bedste, Tiden saa' ved Livets Bord,
har drukket Skaalen ud en Omgang før,
og een for een krøb stille under Jord.
25 | A XXI.
Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to Rest.B XXII.
For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to rest. |
21
Og vi, som morer os og larmer nu
i Stuen, de forlod - ja jeg og du
maa ogsaa bort. De næste nærmer sig.
Og Somrene vil blomstre da, som nu. | A XXII.
And we, that now make merry in the Room
They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom,
Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth
Descend, ourselves to make a Couch--for whom?B XXIII.
And we, that now make merry in the Room
They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom,
Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth
Descend--ourselves to make a Couch--for whom? |
22
Lad os fuldende det, hvorfor vi stred,
før ogsaa vi i Støv er sunket ned,
er Støv i Støv og under Støv - og glemt
al Vin, al verden og al Evighed. | A XXIII.
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust Descend;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer and--sans End!B XXIV.
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End! |
23
Til dem, der gør sig med Idag Besvær,
og dem, der rastløst mod Imorgen ser,
raaber en Muezzín fra Mørkets Taarn:
»I Daarer! Ingen Løn I finder der.« | A XXIV.
Alike for those who for to-day prepare,
And those that after a to-morrow stare,
A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries
"Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There."B XXV.
Alike for those who for to-day prepare,
And those that after some to-morrow stare,
A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries,
"Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There." |
24
De hellige og vise Mænd, hvis Ord
om de to Verdener saa vide fór,
var smaa Profeter. Talen blev til Spot,
og Taleren fik Munden fuld af Jord. | A XXV.
Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd
Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust
Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn
Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.B XXVI.
Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd
Of the Two Worlds so wisely--they are thrust
Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn
Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust. |
25
Jeg gik, da jeg var ung, med ivrigt Sind
til hellige og lærde, hvor et Spind
af Argumenter hang - men altid kom
jeg ud ad samme Dør, hvor jeg kom ind.
30 | A XXVII.
Myself when young did eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument
About it and about: but evermore
Came out by the same Door as in I went.B XXVII.
Myself when young did eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument
About it and about: but evermore
Came out by the same door where in I went. |
26
Jeg hjalp dem Visdoms Kerner ud at saa
og ventede de nye, grønne Straa,
men denne Kundskab blev min hele Høst:
»Jeg kom som Vandet, skal som Vinden gaa.« | A XXVIII.
With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow,
And with my own hand labour'd it to grow:
And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd--
"I came like Water, and like Wind I go."B XXVIII.
With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow,
And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow;
And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd--
"I came like Water, and like Wind I go." |
27
Hvorfor jeg kom hertil, jeg aldrig tyder.
Og ej hvorfra: Jeg lever. Bækken flyder.
Jeg drager bort, som Vinden gennem Ørk -
hvorhen veed ikke jeg. Jeg dør. Jeg lyder. | A XXIX.
Into this Universe, and why not knowing,
Nor whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing:
And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.B XXIX.
Into this Universe, and Why not knowing
Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing;
And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing. |
28 (A 31)
Fra Dybets syvende Port jeg Slaaen skød,
steg til Saturn, mens undervejs jeg brød
saa mangen Gaades Segl, men ej det Segl,
der lukker for vor Skæbne og vor Død. | A XXXI.
Up from Earth's Centre through the seventh Gate
I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,
And many Knots unravel'd by the Road;
But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate.B XXXI.
Up from Earth's Center through the Seventh Gate
I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,
And many a Knot unravel'd by the Road;
But not the Master-knot of Human Fate. |
29
Der var en Dør, min Evne aabned ej,
en Taage, hvor omsonst jeg søgte Vej.
Jeg syntes, du og jeg blev nævnt en Stund.
Saa talte ingen mer om dig og mig | A XXXII.
There was a Door to which I found no Key:
There was a Veil past which I could not see:
Some little Talk awhile of me and thee
There seemed--and then no more of thee and me.B XXXII.
There was the Door to which I found no Key;
There was the Veil through which I might not see:
Some little talk awhile of me and thee
There was--and then no more of thee and me. |
30 (B 33)
Jorden var tavs, og Havet stønned mat
i Sørgekaabe, stumt og gudforladt.
Tavs drejed Himlen sig med sine Tegn
formummede i Slæb af Dag og Nat.
35 | B XXXIII.
Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mourn
In flowing Purple, of their Lord Forlorn;
Nor rolling Heaven, with all his Signs reveal'd
And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn. |
31 (B 34)
Da fra det DIG I MIG, som hyller ind
bag Slør sin Virken, bad jeg: »Giv mit Sind
en Lygte her i Mørket.« Og det lød
som fra derude: »JEG I DIG er blind.« | A XXXIII.
Then to the rolling Heav'n itself I cried,
Asking, "What Lamp had Destiny to guide
Her little Children stumbling in the Dark?"
And--"A blind understanding!" Heav'n replied.B XXXIV.
Then of the thee in me who works behind
The Veil, I lifted up my hands to find
A lamp amid the Darkness; and I heard,
As from Without--"The me within thee blind!" |
32 (A 34)
Da greb jeg denne Skaal af Jordens Ler,
at smage Sandhed, skjult i hvad jeg ser.
Og Skaalen mumled: »Drik, mens du er til,
for - een Gang død - du ser mig aldrig mer.« | A XXXIV.
Then to this earthen Bowl did I adjourn
My Lip the secret Well of Life to learn:
And Lip to Lip it murmur'd--"While you live,
Drink!--for once dead you never shall return."B XXXV.
Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn
I lean'd, the Secret of my Life to learn:
And Lip to Lip it murmur'd--"While you live,
"Drink!--for, once dead, you never shall return." |
33 (A 35)
Jeg tænker, Skaalen, som med sløret Røst
gav Svaret, drak engang af Livets Lyst.
Jeg kyssede dens kolde Læbe ømt:
»O kys mig ofte, Skaal, og skænk mig Trøst!« | A XXXV.
I think the Vessel, that with fugitive
Articulation answer'd, once did live,
And merry-make; and the cold Lip I kiss'd
How many Kisses might it take--and give.B XXXVI.
I think the Vessel, that with fugitive
Articulation answer'd, once did live,
And drink; and Ah! the passive Lip I kiss'd,
How many Kisses might it take--and give! |
34 (A 37)
Ja, fyld min Skaal! Hvi spilde mere Mod
paa Tid, som skubber Verden fra vor Fod?
Ufødt Imorgen og et dødt Igaar -
hvi ænse dem, naar blot Idag er god? | A XXXVII.
Ah, fill the Cup:--what boots it to repeat
How Time is slipping underneath our Feet:
Unborn to-morrow and dead yesterday,
Why fret about them if to-day be sweet! |
35 (A 47)
Og ender Vin og Kyssets Salighed
i dette Intet, hvori alt gaar ned -
lad dig kun blænde! Intet er du selv,
og mindre bli'r du ej i Evighed.
40 | A XLVII.
And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,
End in the Nothing all Things end in--Yes-
Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what
Thou shalt be--Nothing--Thou shalt not be less.B XLII.
And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,
End in what All begins and ends in--Yes;
Think then you are to-day what yesterday
You were--to-morrow you shall not be less. |
36 (B 43)
Naar Englen med det sorte Bægers Blink
da finder dig ved Flodens Sommerbrink -
kys kun den Skaal, som gør din Mund til Muld,
og tøm den uden Skælven paa hans Vink. | A XLVIII.
While the Rose blows along the River Brink,
With old Khayyam the Ruby Vintage drink:
And when the Angel with his darker Draught
Draws up to thee--take that, and do not shrink.B XLIII.
So when that Angel of the darker Drink
At last shall find you by the river-brink,
And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul
Forth to your Lips to quaff--you shall not shrink. |
37 (B 44)
Thi kunde Sjælen Støvet af sig flaa
og nøgen ride rundt i Himlens Blaa -
var det ej Skam, var det ej Skam for den
i Lerets Hylster længere at gaa? | B XLIV.
Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,
And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,
Were't not a Shame--were't not a Shame for him
In this clay carcass crippled to abide? |
38 (B 45)
Det er kun Teltet, hvor en Sultan bor
en Dag paa Vej til Riget under Jord.
Sultanen rejser, og en sort Ferrásh
bereder Teltet for en ny Beboer. | B XLV.
'Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest
A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest;
The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash
Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest. |
39 (B 46)
Og frygt kun ej, at Livet efter vort
vil miste noget, naar vi rejser bort.
Den evige Sáki har af Bobler blæst
utallige lig os - og farer fort. | B XLVI.
And fear not lest Existence closing your
Account, and mine, should know the like no more;
The Eternal Saki from that Bowl has pour'd
Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour. |
40 (B 47)
Naar du og jeg forlængst bag Sløret gled,
o - lang lang Tid vil Verden vare ved,
mens den kun husker vort Goddag - Farvel,
som Havet husker Stenen, der sank ned.
45 | B XLVII.
When You and I behind the Veil are past,
Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last,
Which of our Coming and Departure heeds
As the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast. |
41 (A 38, B 48)
En Ørkenfærd i bælgmørk Evighed,
et stakket Hvil paa Livets grønne Bred -
Dødsskyggens Karavaner er i Drift
mod Intets Morgengry - af Sted, af Sted! | A XXXVIII.
One Moment in Annihilation's Waste,
One moment, of the Well of Life to taste--
The Stars are setting, and the Caravan
Starts for the dawn of Nothing--Oh, make haste!B XLVIII.
A Moment's Halt--a momentary taste
Of being from the Well amid the Waste--
And Lo!--the phantom Caravan has reach'd
The nothing it set out from--Oh, make haste! |
42 (B 50)
Et Haar maaske adskiller Falsk og Sandt;
maaske et enkelt Ciffer, ingen fandt,
var Nøglen til de skjulte Skatte - ja
kanhænde Mesteren gik midt iblandt. | B L.
A Hair perhaps divides the False and True;
Yes; and a single Alif were the clue--
Could you but find it--to the Treasure-house,
And peradventure to the master too; |
43 (B 51)
Han Selv fordulgt i alles Aarer gaar;
han gækker al den Søgen, vi formaar,
tager hver Ham - fra Máh til Máhi - se,
han skifter dem, de dør; men han bestaar. | B LI.
Whose secret Presence through Creation's veins
Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains;
Taking all shapes from Mah to Mahi and
They change and perish all--but He remains; |
44 (B 52)
Et Gaaders Nu - saa svinde som et Skælv
i Mørket udenom hans Dramas Hvælv,
hans Drama, som til Evighedsfordriv
han digter, spiller og betragter selv. | B LII.
A moment guessed--then back behind the Fold
Immerst of Darkness round the Drama roll'd
Which, for the Pastime of Eternity,
He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold. |
45 (B 53)
Men om forgæves ned mod Jordens Ler
og op mod Himlens lukte Dør du ser
i Dag, mens du er dig - hvorledes da
i Morgen, naar du aldrig bli'r dig mer?
50 | B LIII.
But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor
Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door,
You gaze to-day, while You are You--how then
To-morrow, when You shall be You no more? |
46 (B 57)
Om mine Regnestykker Rygtet gaar,
at de har skabt et mer nøjagtigt Aar -
ak nej: jeg strøg kun af min Almanak
Ufødt og Dødt: Imorgen og Igaar. | B LVII.
Ah, by my Computations, People say,
Reduce the Year to better reckoning?--Nay,
'Twas only striking from the Calendar
Unborn To-morrow and dead Yesterday. |
47 (B 55)
Jeg holdt et Gilde nys med Svir og Sang,
idet jeg gifted mig for anden Gang -
bar gammel gold Fornuft af Sengen ud
og gav til Rankens Datter Brudens Rang. | A XL.
You know, my Friends, how long since in my House
For a new Marriage I did make Carouse:
Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,
And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.B LV.
You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse
I made a Second Marriage in my house;
Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,
And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse. |
48 (B 59)
Thi Druen har Logik, som spøgefuld
slaar alle hidsige Sekter helt omkuld -
den kaade Alkymist, som i et Nu
forvandler Livets graa Metal til Guld. | A XLIII.
The Grape that can with Logic absolute
The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:
The subtle Alchemist that in a Trice
Life's leaden Metal into Gold transmute.B LIX.
The Grape that can with Logic absolute
The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:
The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice
Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute; |
49 (B 64)
Hvor sælsomt, at de mange, som før mig
befôr den Dal, som Solen kender ej,
blev alle borte. Jeg har aldrig hørt
fra nogen, der har vandret denne Vej. | B LXIV.
Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who
Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through,
Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
Which to discover we must travel too. |
50 (A 26, B 63)
Kom til Khayyám den vise hid og hør:
Een Ting er vist, at Liv er Sus i Rør.
Een Ting er vist, og alt det andet Tant:
Den Blomst, som een Gang blomstred, evigt dør.
55 | A XXVI.
Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise
To talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies;
One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies;
The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.B LXIII.
Of threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise!
One thing at least is certain--This Life flies;
One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;
The Flower that once has blown for ever dies. |
51 (A 45)
Lad Kævlet koge! Gaa af Taabens Vej,
naar han med Universet gør Staahej!
Og lad os øve - i en Vrøvlets Krog -
den muntre Leg, som overdriver dig! | A XLV.
But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me
The Quarrel of the Universe let be:
And, in some corner of the Hubbub coucht,
Make Game of that which makes as much of Thee. |
52 (A 46)
Thi mellem Himlens Hvælv og Jordens Ring
et Intet staar forklædt i alle Ting.
Og i en Sal, hvis Lampe er en Sol,
gaar vi som Skyggebilleder omkring. | A XLVI.
For in and out, above, about, below,
'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show,
Play'd in a Box whose Candle is the Sun,
Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.B LXVIII.
We are no other than a moving row
Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go
Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern held
In Midnight by the Master of the Show; |
53
Drivkraftens Finger sine Skrifttegn snor.
Om al din Kløgt og Fromhed den besvor,
den aldrig strøg en skreven Linje bort -
og al din Graad ej tvætter ud et Ord. | A LI.
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.B LXXI.
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. |
54
Det første Ler i Jordens første Land
har givet Stof til Jordens sidste Mand.
Og Verdens Skabelse skrev selv den Bog,
som Dommedagen truer med sin Brand. | A LIII.
With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man's knead,
And then of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed:
Yea, the first Morning of Creation wrote
What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.B LXXIII.
With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead,
And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed:
And the first Morning of Creation wrote
What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read. |
55
Du, som af muddret Ler gav Manden Liv
og gav ham Eden, Slangen og - en Viv!
Naar han for dig af Synder sodet staar,
tilgiv hinanden, du og han - tilgiv!
60 | A LVIII.
Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make,
And who with Eden didst devise the Snake;
For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man
Is blacken'd, Man's Forgiveness give--and take!B LXXXI.
Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make,
And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake:
For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man
Is blacken'd--Man's forgiveness give--and take! |
| * * * | * * * |
56 (A 67)
Aa, ræk mig Vin i Livets Aftenrødt,
tvæt mig deri, naar Legemet er dødt -
lad mig begraves, klædt i Rankens Løv,
og ved en Haveside hvile sødt. | A LXVII.
Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide,
And wash my Body whence the life has died,
And in a Windingsheet of Vineleaf wrapt,
So bury me by some sweet Gardenside.B XCI.
Ah, with the Grape my fading life provide,
And wash the Body whence the Life has died,
And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf,
By some not unfrequented Garden-side. |
57
Da slynger jeg en Snare af min Duft
om dem, der gaar forbi i Dagens Luft,
saa mangen Troende skal svimle om
imellem Salighed og sund Fornuft. | A LXVIII.
That ev'n my buried Ashes such a Snare
Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air,
As not a True Believer passing by
But shall be overtaken unaware.B XCII.
That ev'n buried Ashes such a snare
Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air
As not a True-believer passing by
But shall be overtaken unaware. |
58
Hver Afgud, jeg har dyrket mangen Gang,
har gjort min Færd i Verdens Øjne vrang,
druknet min Ære i saa flad en Skaal
og solgt mit gode Rygte for en Sang. | A LXIX.
Indeed, the Idols I have loved so long
Have done my Credit in Men's Eye much wrong:
Have drown'd my Honour in a shallow Cup,
And sold my Reputation for a Song.B XCIII.
Indeed the Idols I have loved so long
Have done my credit in this World much wrong:
Have drown'd my Glory in a shallow Cup,
And sold my reputation for a Song. |
59
Ja, - Bod og Bedring tit, mens Tiden fôr,
jeg svor, men var jeg ædru, naar jeg svor?
Og stundom kom der Vaar - og Rosers Væld,
og alle Sorgens Pjalter sank til Jord. | A LXX.
Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before
I swore--but was I sober when I swore?
And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand
My thread-bare Penitence a-pieces tore.B XCIV.
Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before
I swore--but was I sober when I swore?
And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand
My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore. |
60
Ak ve, at Vaaren skulde visne bort,
at Ungdoms søde Digt var altfor kort!
Den Nattergal, som nys i Grenen sang -
hvor kom den fra, til hvad mon den fløj bort? | A LXXII.
Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose!
That Youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should close!
The Nightingale that in the Branches sang,
Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows!B XCVI.
Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose!
That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close!
The Nightingale that in the branches sang,
Ah whence, and whither flown again, who knows! |
61
Aa kære! Fik vi Fatums Vingefang,
greb vi i Farten Verdens usle Gang,
slog alt itu og skabte alt paany -
paany, men mere efter Hjertets Trang. | A LXXIII.
Ah, Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits--and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!B XCIX.
Ah Love! could you and I with Him conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits--and then
Re-mold it nearer to the Heart's Desire! |
| * * * | |
62 (A 74, B 100)
Se Himlens Maane over Havens Træ!
Hvor ofte vil den skifte Ny og Næ?
Hvor ofte vil herefter Maanens Blik
forgæves søge mig i Havens Læ? | A LXXIV.
Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane,
The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again:
How oft hereafter rising shall she look
Through this same Garden after me--in vain!B C.
Yon rising Moon that looks for us again--
How oft hereafter will she wax and wane;
How oft hereafter rising look for us
Through this same Garden--and for one in vain! |
63 (B 101)
Og gaar lig Maanen du i det Palads,
hvor Vaarens Gæster tog som Stjerner Plads
rundt mellem Græs - og, Sáki, staar du mild,
hvor jeg skød Blomst - vend ned det tømte Glas! | A LXXV.
And when Thyself with shining Foot shall pass
Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on The Grass,
And in Thy joyous Errand reach the Spot
Where I made one--turn down an empty Glass!B CI.
And when like her, oh Saki, you shall pass
Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass,
And in your joyous errand reach the spot
Where I made One--turn down an empty Glass! |
| Tamám |
