THE COLLECTED POEMS OF HENRIK IBSEN Translated by John ...

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246 Let’s try it again, but be more categorical; that calls for real men, not just the rhetorical. You fix me a flood to the high-tide mark, I’ll gladly, myself, torpedo the Ark. Written in 1869 for a revolutionary, Adolf Hedin whom Ibsen had met at the Limnells’ house (see ‘Balloon Letter’ below). BURDEN <strong>OF</strong> MAJESTY For a knight beyond comparing this I send without a name. I know how the sword despairing sears the bound hands of the daring, know how savage teeth are tearing at a brow with thought a-flame. Will attuned to triumph’s manner, — will kept shackled, pent unheard; hand stretched for his forebears’ banner, soul, a mighty exploit-planner, — wind-felled spruce confine a spanner of the skies, poor regal bird! Daylight dawns and hunt-horns utter. Heigh, the whole world’s in the chase! I know how clipped wings can flutter, beat against the bars and shutter; know how yearning goads when but a pygmy mans the sentry-place. Horns fall mute now daylight’s faded; unused weapons strew the ground. Name on name is serenaded round the hillside, greenwoods shaded; — I know how he feels degraded, he whose name no voices sound. Creativity his dower, beauty’s promise, larva-like, — poem-play his kind of power, bright with vying hues his flower; — sport of dire neglect, while sour deprivation’s lightnings strike! Forced to gainsay what’s depicted on his candid forehead plain! Forced to have ideals restricted, just as Peter, lie-afflicted,
247 sank that night till the predicted cock-crow raised him, whole again. Grief — and silence! Pygmies, dare you such a sacrifice assess? Know you what it costs, to swear to foreign swords your fealty, care to risk your all as you prepare to save an age from fecklessness? Dream, you’ll answer, an illusion, all this magnanimity. Good; spread shrewdness in profusion, judgement’s caused you no confusion, you’ve not drained the cup — conclusion: you’ve not known what dreams can be. More than life, in my submission, is a dream that’s not set free. Like my poetry’s condition, shackled <strong>by</strong> soul’s inhibition; snarling, clawing for remission, lion-like it craves my “Be!” You will quote the old bathetic: “Greatest he who shuns extremes.” — Golden rule for the ascetic, shelter for the apathetic! Bells ring but for the athletic in whose veins hot blood still streams. Spare me “higher obligation”! — Have you bought his unscathed heart? Bought the poet’s staunch vocation to subvert his dedication? Bought him, that with reprobation he might view his noblest part? For a knight beyond comparing this my garland with no name. I know how the sword despairing sears the bound hands of the daring, know how savage teeth are tearing; — can you, wise men, feel the same? Purpled martyrdom, his token, — sore constraint, the silenced dream, flowers mocked, for gloom bespoken, — fruit-filled boughs untimely broken, — dream, to life’s vile crassness woken, — hence the Cross provides my theme.
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1 THE COLLECTED POEMS OF HENRIK IBS
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3 recollections. In The Lad in the
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5 would testify to its slow space,
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7 O, blend but your plaining With s
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9 But shoots sprouted forth from th
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11 Round crumbled memorials gyratin
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13 Ha, you spot some earthly Miss,
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15 — But no, — by the shore all
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17 TO THE STAR (Dedicated to C:E:)
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19 Here may the heart find such con
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21 Wretched land! Their finest life
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23 To guard, in Parliament, its rep
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25 But were hope cheated, were it p
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27 Gently hum old songs, provide yo
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29 Kept from sight behind a pendant
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31 The dawning of my life on the fi
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33 True, there’s many a little ma
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35 Nobly the tasks he sustained. So
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37 MOONLIGHT MOOD Wanly shines the
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39 And that contending is its fines
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41 The one fares in the cause of pr
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43 7 I’m thinking of the legend o
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45 And I rushed the trap I’d fash
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47 THE SWAN When the mist autumns b
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49 Yes, indeed! King Christian’s
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51 From there it sarcastically glow
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53 Full many a grieving soul has fo
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55 The fiddle stops and to their gr
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57 In wondrous dreaming visions I t
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59 Yes we, a watch eternal, Shall l
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61 for your backing so far and good
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63 Poured from a horn of silver Fin
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65 Then must the speedy charger Sho
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67 She was no second Freia, All bri
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69 “But though my brothers perish
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71 And Dag sets out for Braalund, A
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73 On Idavold King Helge Strives we
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75 So that its rich, exuberant acco
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77 “He thought that your tears we
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79 Engrave themselves so deep in ou
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81 Far beyond the billows buried. T
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83 It seemed to me the plan compose
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85 Ulrikken, the highest of the mou
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87 So that my poor little flower sh
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89 “No, just the sere, the wind-f
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91 VIII For you must not forget: in
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93 And all my fair flowers, they pe
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95 God knows there were pictures en
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97 XXII My demon visits me by day a
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99 Then you’ll have felt your lip
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101 When epic shield-to-shield fora
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103 A thought that in a forty-year-
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105 FOR THE TENTH ANNIVERSARY OF
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107 At every sweet word received, S
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109 GREETINGS to HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS
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111 SONG preluding SHIP’S MASTER
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113 AT THE ANNIVERSARY of THE 22 ND
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Written to Susannah Thorensen in 18
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117 Ibsen was appointed artistic di
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119 Look towards the whole, not fra
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121 A score of turrets to the sky R
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123 Burns where the rudder races, S
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125 “There I am safe and there I
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127 Brows broke in that contention,
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129 SONG at THE DEDICATION OF THE N
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131 I’ve breathed elegiacal frost
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133 Like some blood-boltered child
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135 Will seek her for their own Ane
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137 And the old man, lone again, St
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139 PROLOGUE, delivered in the Norw
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141 Yes, and what’s worst is, —
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143 Of our songster-faring, songste
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145 No, royal Copenhagen, when all
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147 That at last you must have died
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149 Thue, a Norwegian grammar schoo
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151 Her bosom rose and fell. Now sh
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153 Snug lodging for all that. And
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155 Snow-glare makes a better showi
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157 He had heard my every wordless
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159 But thanks for your kind intent
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161 Seemed to beckon me so near. Oh
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163 Deep its furrows In the greybea
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165 Yes, should the need to fend th
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167 ON THE DEATH OF J. L. HEIBERG N
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169 And then there were few who’d
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171 The smallest cutter that he cou
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173 An east wind was rising, so Eng
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175 Then cried Terje Vigen: “You
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177 He waved his sou’wester and s
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179 Places I visited, where I had d
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181 No glimpse of the waters flowin
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183 Dare in your song ring loudly.
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185 Then, half-mast, it drooped and
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187 labour-guider, work-provider, S
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189 SONG at THE STUDENTS’ RETURN
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191 The bee, ever loyal, resumed hi
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193 My dear — Ibsen originally wr
Page 195 and 196: 195 In his mind youth’s spate was
Page 197 and 198: 197 Through the brave, bald reach w
Page 199 and 200: 199 In sunshine’s festive spell S
Page 201 and 202: 201 POEMS ABROAD FROM THE DYBBØL D
Page 203 and 204: 203 But just as the romp had reache
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Page 207 and 208: 207 Written shortly after the assas
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Page 211 and 212: 211 and from the fence-post there
Page 213 and 214: 213 eyes tightly closed, chilled th
Page 215 and 216: 215 “Recovered though, her pace p
Page 217 and 218: 217 “And there his finest masterp
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Page 221 and 222: 221 no living soul encountered as t
Page 223 and 224: 223 but just a hint of question was
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Page 227 and 228: 227 A chuckle from the priest, then
Page 229 and 230: 229 he drew in breath like one who
Page 231 and 232: 231 A host of memories began to roa
Page 233 and 234: 233 The captain rose, — an old ma
Page 235 and 236: 235 But at a sunbeam’s touch his
Page 237 and 238: 237 “To church!” was shouted as
Page 239 and 240: 239 Who’d shriek his throat sore
Page 241 and 242: 241 one or another from the pallid
Page 243 and 244: 243 up in the pulpit Brand was hear
Page 245: 245 Then I revisited eighteen years
Page 249 and 250: 249 BALLOON LETTER to a Swedish lad
Page 251 and 252: 251 Memnon’s statue, stone coloss
Page 253 and 254: 253 are like bits of broken friezes
Page 255 and 256: 255 stooled beside the altar-flame.
Page 257 and 258: 257 flag in black-white funeral gui
Page 259 and 260: 259 yours would lead without a brui
Page 261 and 262: 261 That was when my thanks were ow
Page 263 and 264: 263 Thus it is mind’s eye will se
Page 265 and 266: 265 of your substance, rich and fre
Page 267 and 268: 267 They flocked to a flag that sho
Page 269 and 270: 269 round North Cape’s wall, east
Page 271 and 272: 271 a cloudy torpor that frustrates
Page 273 and 274: 273 spread abroad its shroud of dar
Page 275 and 276: 275 slack orders slackly piped —
Page 277 and 278: 277 she has loved through life, a l
Page 279 and 280: 279 FAR DISTANT Our youth will soon
Page 281 and 282: Munich, 2 nd June 1875 281 The poem
Page 283 and 284: 283 might find it by raking and tur
Page 285 and 286: 285 Prologue for the Norwegian Thea
Page 287: 287 Gone! 203 A Swan 203 The Gulley
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THE COLLECTED POEMS OF HENRIK IBSEN Translated by John ...

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