Norwegian Students' Greeting With A Procession

TO PROFESSOR WELHAVEN
(See Note 36)

Hear us, O age-laden singer!
Streams of your tones are returning,
    Touching your heart!
Spirit of youth is their bringer,
Under your window with yearning
    Called by your art.
Now our soul's echoes abounding
    Soar in the blue,
In the sun-shimmering blue,
High where your silvery song-notes are sounding.

Smile on your labor now lightened,
You who in winter perfected
    Seeds to be sown!
All that your courage has brightened,
All that your pity protected,
    Now it is grown;
Over your shoulders upswinging,
    Folds round your frame,
Bringing in roses your name,
Joyous the sprite of your poetry bringing.

Onward our life is now marching,
Banner-like high thoughts are flying,
    Lifted to view.
One 'mid the foremost o'erarching
Leads where the pathway is lying, -
    It came from you!
Runes of our past with their warning
    Carved on its shaft,
Show us the spring you have quaffed,
Leading our land to the light of the morning.

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

During A Journey In Sweden

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

Those With Me

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

Our Forefathers (January 13, 1864)

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

Johan Ludvig Heiberg (1860)

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson, Simple Poetry

English

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Norwegian Students' Greeting With A Procession

TO PROFESSOR WELHAVEN
(See Note 36)

Hear us, O age-laden singer!
Streams of your tones are returning,
    Touching your heart!
Spirit of youth is their bringer,
Under your window with yearning
    Called by your art.
Now our soul's echoes abounding
    Soar in the blue,
In the sun-shimmering blue,
High where your silvery song-notes are sounding.

Smile on your labor now lightened,
You who in winter perfected
    Seeds to be sown!
All that your courage has brightened,
All that your pity protected,
    Now it is grown;
Over your shoulders upswinging,
    Folds round your frame,
Bringing in roses your name,
Joyous the sprite of your poetry bringing.

Onward our life is now marching,
Banner-like high thoughts are ...

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

Norse Nature (In Ringerike During The Student Meeting Of 1869)

(See Note 39)

We wander and sing with glee
Of glorious Norway, fair to see.
Let sweetly the tones go twining
In colors so softly shining
On mountain, forest, fjord, and shore,
'Neath heaven's azure arching o'er.

The warmth of the nation's heart,
The depth, the strength, its songs impart,
Here opens its eyes to greet you,
Rejoicing just now to meet you,
And giving, grateful for the chance,
In love a self-revealing glance.

Here wakened our history first,
Here Halfdan dreamed of greatness erst,
In vision of hope beholding
The kingdom's future unfolding,
And Nore stood and summons gave,
While forth to conquest called the wave.

Here singing we must unroll
Of our dear land the pictured scroll!
Let calm turn to ...

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

Song For The Students' Glee Club

Now, brothers, sing out our song,
Whose train of light shall follow long!
With love are its measures beating
And victory's joyous greeting,
While round about it flower-seeds
In will of youth shall grow to deeds!

Our song has gone far and. wide,
Bright mem'ries on our way abide,
In flags flying, friends that love us,
In wreaths from fair hands above us,
In feasts where youth's full spirits stream,
Our nation's past, our nation's dream.

At Hald on a sunny day
That shot-torn flag of many a fray
Was waving above our singing,
Soul-fire to our music bringing,
The ardor of that glorious band,
Who died as heroes for our land.

To Arendal our summer-way
"For might and fame!" - remember aye!
The fleet on the bay was rid...

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

Norway, Norway

(See Note 76)

    Norway, Norway,
Rising in blue from the sea's gray and green,
Islands around like fledglings tender,
Fjord-tongues with slender,
Tapering tips in the silence seen.
    Rivers, valleys,
Mate among mountains, wood-ridge and slope
Wandering follow. Where the wastes lighten,
Lake and plain brighten
Hallow a temple of peace and hope.
    Norway, Norway,
Houses and huts, not castles grand,
    Gentle or hard,
    Thee we guard, thee we guard,
Thee, our future's fair land.

    Norway, Norway,
Glistening heights where skis swiftly go,
Harbors with fishermen, salts, and craftsmen,
Rivers and raftsmen,
Herdsmen and horns and the glacier-glow.
    Moors and meadows,
Runes in the woodlands, and wide-mown swaths,<...

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

To Molde

(See Note 64)

    Molde, Molde,
    True as a song,
Billowy rhythms whose thoughts fill with love me,
Follow thy form in bright colors above me,
    Bear thy beauty along.
Naught is so black as thy fjord, when storm-lashes
Sea-salted scourge it and inward it dashes,
Naught is so mild as thy strand, as thine islands,
    Ah, as thine islands!
Naught is so strong as thy mountain-linked ring,
Naught is so sweet as thy summer-nights bring.
    Molde, Molde,
    True as a song,
    Murm'ring memories throng.

    Molde, Molde,
    Flower-o'ergrown,
Houses and gardens where good friends wander!
Hundreds of miles away, - but I'm yonder
    'Mid the roses full-blown.
Strong shines the sun on that mountain-rimmed beauty,
Fast is the ...

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson

Ole Gabriel Ueland

(See Note 46)

Of long toil 't is a matter
Through many a silent age,
Before such power can shatter
Time-hallowed custom's cage.
The soul-fruit of the peasant,
Though seldom seed was sown,
It is our honor present, -
Our future sure foreknown.

The fjords that earnest waited
'Mid mountain-snows around
His childhood's thoughts created
And depth of life profound.
The highlands' sun that played there
On fjord and mountain snow
So wide a vision made there
As one could wish to know.

When he to Ting repairing
Would plead the peasant's right,
Each word a beam was bearing.
To make our young day bright.
It came like ancient story
Or long-lost song's refrain;
What crowned our past with glory
It made our prese...

Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson