Pagen høit paa Taarnet sad,
Stirred ud så vide,
Digtet på et Elskovskvad
Om sin Elskovskvide,
Kunde ikke få det samlet,
Sad og famled'
Nu med Stjerner, nu med Roser --
Intet rimed' sig på Roser --
Satte fortvivlet så Hornet for Mund,
Knugede vredt sit Vaerge,
Blaeste så sin Elskov ud
Over alle Bjaerge.
About the headline (FAQ)
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):
- by Johan Backer-Lunde (1874 - 1958), "Genrebillede", op. 4 no. 3 [sung text checked 1 time]
- by Matti Borg (b. 1956), "Genrebillede", from Landskab. 12 sange til tekster af J.P.Jacobsen, no. 7 [sung text not yet checked]
- by Frederick Delius (1862 - 1934), "Pagen hølt paa Taarnet sad", from Five Danish Songs, no. 1 [sung text not yet checked]
- by Eyvind Hesselberg (1898 - 1986), "Genrebillede", 1928 [ vocal sextet and piano ] [sung text not yet checked]
- by Peter Erasmus Lange-Müller (1850 - 1926), "Genrebillede" [ voice and piano ] [sung text checked 1 time]
- by Carl Nielsen (1865 - 1931), "Genrebillede", op. 6 (Viser og vers = Songs and Verses) no. 1, FS. 14 no. 1 (1891) [sung text checked 1 time]
- by (Johan Gustaf) Emil Sjögren (1853 - 1918), "Pagen", 1892 [ voice and piano ] [sung text checked 1 time]
Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:
- Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Robert Franz Arnold (1872 - 1938) , "Genrebild" ; composed by Hans Hermann, Jakob Wolff.
- Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Frida Schanz (1859 - 1944) [an adaptation] ; composed by Margarete Voigt-Schweikert.
Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Scènes de genre", copyright ©, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Per Weber
This text was added to the website: 2004-03-30
Line count: 12
Word count: 53
Le page assis en haut de la tour
regardait fixement au loin,
Écrivait un fatras de vers amoureux
Sur ses tourments d'amour,
Ne pouvait y mettre de l'ordre,
Assis il hésitait :
Ici une étoile, ici une rose --
Rien ne rimait avec rose--
Désespéré mit son cor à la bouche,
Serra son instrument,
Et y souffla son amour
Par-dessus tous les monts.