Se, nu er sommeren kommen
Language: Danish (Dansk)
Available translation(s): ENG FRE GER
Se, nu er Sommeren kommen,
Kirsebærfrugten er moden;
I Havens snirklede Gange
Flytter jeg Silkefoden.
Silke har jeg mig spundet
Ud af min Ungdoms Glæde,
Silke fra Hoved til Foden -
Ved ikke, hvor jeg tør træde;
Elsker de dyre Stene,
Elsker de gyldne Spanger;
Ligner vist Gyldenlakken,
Som med sin Armod pranger.
Holdes til Huset bundet,
Vogtes mod snigende Slanger, -
Ville så gerne snakke
Lidt med de andre Fanger.
Se, nu er Sommeren kommen,
Træernes frugt er moden.
Sommeren har sine Storme,
Frugterne drysses for Foden.
Fy, hvilke stygge Tanker.
Vinden får vifte dem ud,
Vinden får slutte min Vise ...
Dèr kommer Slotsherrens Bud!
Confirmed with Drachmann, Holger,
Samlede Petiske Skrifter - Folkeudgave - Fjerde bind, Gyldendalske Boghandel Nordisk Forlag, Kjøbenhavn og Kristiania, 1907.
Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Camilla Bugge) , "Look, now summer has come", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Vois, l'été est maintenant arrivé", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- GER German (Deutsch) (Heidrun Beer) , "Nun ist der Sommer gekommen", copyright © 2023, (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: 24
Word count: 107
Look, now summer has come
Language: English  after the Danish (Dansk)
Look, now summer has come,
the cherries are ripe;
on the meandering garden paths
I move my silken foot.
I have spun silk
out of the joy of my youth,
silk from my head to my feet -
know not where I dare tread;
love precious stones,
love golden buckles;
must look like the wallflower,
gaudy in her poverty.
Am kept bound to the house,
guarded from cunning serpents, -
would so like to speak a little
to the other prisoners.
Look, now summer has come,
the fruit on the trees is ripe.
Summer has its storms,
the fruit falls at my feet.
Shame, such ugly thoughts.
The wind must waft them away,
the wind must end my ditty ...
there comes his Lordship's messenger!
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.
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Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2004-12-11
Line count: 24
Word count: 125