Vildt, vildt, vildt suser blæsten
Language: Danish (Dansk)
Our translations: ENG FRE
Vildt, vildt, vildt suser Blæsten,
Sommer er næsten draget af Land.
Mod Bryggerne skvulper det sortnende Vand;
Jeg så ham på Bryggen, den kongelige Mand.
Hans Øje var dybt som Fjorden derude;
Jeg kunne mig sænke derned.
På Brystet det brede lå fløjelets Bude;
Jeg kunne mig hvile derved.
For Foden jeg kunne ham falde med Suk
Og smile, om Hånden min Pande strøg.
De sagde så ofte, at Duen var smuk.
Nu ved jeg først, hvem der er Høg!
Vildt, vildt, vildt suser Blæsten,
Hvem der ved Festen iaften var med!
Jeg blev vel på Tærskelen stående ræd, -
Og dansed' dog gerne afsted!
Hans Øje var dybt som Fjorden derude;
Jeg kunne mig sænke derned.
Confirmed with Drachmann, Holger,
Samlede Petiske Skrifter - Folkeudgave - Fjerde bind, Gyldendalske Boghandel Nordisk Forlag, Kjøbenhavn og Kristiania, 1907.
Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:
- Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Heinrich Zschalig ; composed by Peter Arnold Heise.
Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Camilla Bugge) , "Wild, wild, wild rushes the wind", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Le vent souffle fort, fort, fort", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Camilla Bugge , Pierre Mathé
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website: 2004-12-11
Line count: 18
Word count: 116
Wild, wild, wild rushes the wind
Language: English after the Danish (Dansk)
Wild, wild, wild rushes the wind,
summer has almost left the land.
The blackening waters lap against the quay;
I saw him on the quay, that royal man.
His eye was as deep as the fjord out there;
I could sink myself into it.
His broad chest was a velvet pillow;
I could rest upon it.
At his feet I could fall with a sigh
and smile, should his hand caress my brow.
Often they said that the dove was fair.
Now I know, who is the hawk!
Wild, wild, wild rushes the wind,
could I but attend the ball tonight!
I'd stand on the threshold, afraid, -
and yet would so like to dance!
His eye was as deep as the fjord out there;
I could sink myself into it.
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Danish (Dansk) to English copyright © 2004 by Camilla Bugge, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.
Contact: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2004-12-11
Line count: 18
Word count: 130
