Tímarit Þjóðræknisfélags Íslendinga - 01.01.1938, Page 151

Eftir Margrét A. Bjömsson
LEGEND
Where no woods are he lies
To wind-song and moan
No one replies—
Trolls turn to stone
Maidens in woods who wander alone
Seeking their lovers with soft Dryad eyes—
None hears their cries
Nor wind-song nor moan
In the wroods now none wander but I.
Where are the maids with the soft Dryad eyes ?
“Deep in the troll-hills the maidens are stone”—
Where is the place my dearest one lies ?
“Under the woods
Where no woods are—
Where no sob is, nor wind-song nor moan.”
Where no woods are he lies—
When wind-song and moan die away
And the woods decay
Fll find the place my dearest one lies
And softly open his lonely eyes—
When the woods decay
And wind-song and moan die away.
NCr FINN EG ANGAN
(From the Icelandic of Davíð Stefánsson)
The fragrance of old flowers retums—I
T seem
see the ruins of the city gleam,
And ghosts of song recur as in a dream,
*our breast’s warm glory stirs againin me.
^am the keeper of your memory
nd dim worlds that glimmer haunt-
v ingly.
°ur rich soul men and angels sanctified.
Y d when you smiled, I was purified—
nr breast still calms me in the tumul-
tuous hour.
Y°U Were my globe, my harp, my flame,
my flower.
TIL ERU FRÆ
(From the Icelandic of Davíð Stefánsson)
There are seeds whose fate it is to fall
Aborted to the earth, nor bloom at all.
They’re rather like a ship with no port
near,
Or meadows which in oceans disappear;
Or soaring Hope, its pinions rudely
sundered—
A young mouth’s itrembling rubies still
unplundered;
The aohing breast of love unsatisfied
Or those whose aspirations are denied.
That song is done. which death in life
Contains—
And little child, who ever child remains.