Les îles du Skærgaard | À présent le bateau glisse

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by Knut Hamsun (1859 - 1952)

Translation © by Pierre Mathé

Skærgaardsø

Language: Norwegian (Bokmål)

Our translations: FRE

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Nu glider Baaden 
mod Skærgaardsøen,
en Ø i Havet 
med grønne Strande.
Her lever Blomster 
for ingens Øjne, 
de staar saa fremmed 
og ser mig lande.

Mit Hjærte blir som 
en Fabelhave,
med samme Blomster 
som Øen ejer.
De taler sammen 
og hvisker sælsomt,
som Børn de mødes 
og ler og nejer.

Her var jeg kanske 
i Tidens Morgen,
som hvid Spirea 
engang at finde.
Jeg kender Duften 
igen fra fordum, 
jeg skelver midt i 
et gammelt Minde.

Mit Øje lukkes, 
en fjærn Erindring
har lagt mit Hode 
ned til min Skulder.
Saa tætner Natten, 
ind over Øen
kun Havet buldrer --
Nirvanas Bulder.

Text Authorship:

by Knut Hamsun (1859 - 1952) [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):

by Magne Amdahl (b. 1942), "Skærgaardsø", 1994 [ bass-baritone, narrator, violoncello, and piano ], from En Hamsun konsert, no. 5 [sung text not yet checked]
by Algot Haquinius (1886 - 1966), "Skærgaardsø", 1915 [ voice and piano ] [sung text checked 1 time]

Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):

FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Les îles du Skærgaard", copyright © 2026, (re)printed on this website with kind permission

Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 32
Word count: 103

Les îles du Skærgaard

Language: French (Français) after the Norwegian (Bokmål)

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À présent le bateau glisse
vers les îles du Skærgaard
pour une île au milieu de la mer 
aux plages verdoyantes.
Ici, des fleurs poussent 
à l’abri des regards, 
elles se dressent, si étrangères, 
et me voient accoster.

Mon cœur devient comme 
un jardin féerique,
avec les mêmes fleurs 
que possède l’île.
Elles dialoguent entre elles 
et murmurent étrangement,
telles des enfants, elles se rencontrent 
et rient et font la révérence.

J’étais peut-être ici 
à l’aube des temps,
comme une spirée blanche 
que l’on trouvait autrefois.
Je reconnais encore
ce parfum d’antan, 
je frémis au milieu 
de ce vieux souvenir.

Mes yeux se ferment, 
un lointain souvenir
a posé ma tête 
sur mon épaule.
Puis la nuit s’épaissit, 
sur l’île
seule la mer gronde ...
le grondement du Nirvana.

Text Authorship:

Translation from Norwegian (Bokmål) to French (Français) copyright © 2026 by Pierre Mathé, (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:

a text in Norwegian (Bokmål) by Knut Hamsun (1859 - 1952)
- Go to the text page.

This text was added to the website: 2026-08-15
Line count: 32
Word count: 128