From Monte Pincio

Evening is coming, the sun waxes red,
Radiant colors from heaven are beaming
Life's lustrous longings in infinite streaming; -
Glory in death o'er the mountains is spread.
Cupolas burn, but the fog in far masses
Over the bluish-black fields softly passes,
Rolling as whilom oblivion pale;
Hid is yon valley 'neath thousand years' veil.
    Evening so red and warm
    Glows as the people swarm,
    Notes of the cornet flare,
    Flowers and brown eyes fair.
Great men of old stand in marble erected,
Waiting, scarce known and neglected.

Vespers are ringing, through roseate air
Nebulous floating of tone-sacrifices,
Twilight in churches now broadens and rises,
Incense and word fill the evening with prayer.
Over the Sabines the flame-belt is knotted,
Shepherds' lights through the Campagna are dotted,
Rome with her lamps dimly breaks on the sight, -
Shadowy legend from history's night.
    But to the evening's spell
    Dances the Saltarell'; -
    Fireworks flash and play,
    Mora and laughter gay; -
Colors and tones in all thoughts are enthroning
Harmony's gracious condoning.

Lost has the light in its soundless affray,
Heaven its vaulting of dark-blue is framing,
Where from infinity deep stars are flaming,
Earth's masses sink into vapor away.
Fleeing the darkness, the eyes seek the city,
Meet with its torches a corpse borne in pity;
These seek the night, but a flag is each light,
Waving the hope of eternity bright.
    Gaily to dance and wine
    Mandolins give the sign.
    Monkish song, noise of streets,
    Drowned by a drum's stern beats; -
Through all the dreaming life's arteries flowing,
Glimpses of daylight are going.

Silence o'er all, and the darker blue sky
Watches serenely expectant, 'mid cheering
Dreams of the past and the future that's nearing: -
Fluctuant gleams in the gray that is nigh.
But they will gather, and Rome be resurgent,
Day-dawn from Italy's midnight emergent:
Cannon shall sound and the bells ring the new,
Mem'ries illumine the future's bright blue! -
    Greeting a bridal pair
    Charming in hope so rare,
    Voices bring soft salute,
    Music of harp and flute.
Mightier yearnings sweet sleep is beguiling; -
Lesser dare waken to smiling.

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson was a Norwegian writer and one of the four great Norwegian writers, along with Henrik Ibsen, Jonas Lie, and Alexander Kielland. Bjørnson is recognized for his pivotal role in Norwegian literature and his works contributing significantly to Norwegian national identity. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1903 and also wrote the lyrics to the Norwegian national anthem, 'Ja, vi elsker dette landet'. Bjørnson was an influential figure in Norway's cultural and political life during his lifetime.

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

Romsdal

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

The Pure Norwegian Flag

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

A Meeting

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

The Angels Of Sleep

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

English

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FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME.

Memphis.


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