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

29
Kept from sight behind a pendant;
See that Miss there, hardly daring
To despatch a glance by staring
At that bunch of youthful gallants
Who, with opera-hats for form,
Keep, each one, his lady warm, —
Give her time, — precocious talents,
— That young Miss was, after all,
First confirmed, you know, last Fall! — — —
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Ah, but what rich, motley life
This same brilliant ball-room houses!
Like a vision fever rouses
When your heart’s-dream of a wife
In your sleep’s wild fantasy
Floats right past you airily. — — — —
O, I’ll be there too, you’ll find,
Where there’s racketing, rampaging
Wild, tumultuous as my mind
When its storm of pain is raging; —
— In the hubbub to discover
Swift oblivion or — my lover! —
— — — — — — — — — — —
2.
THE LAST PAGES OF A DIARY
— Foolish dreamer! What are you doing here amongst
these bustling crowds? Is it the irony of fate that has brought
you to seek your heart’s ideal in a ballroom? —
And would it truly please you to find her here? Would
it give you pleasure if your heart’s ideal were made incarnate
in the ideals of the ballroom? —
Rational or irrational, it is all the same; — I must! What
can will or reason avail against the inner, potently lethal yet
redemptive yearning? —
“I must”! — — — — —
Remember these words, you clod! who coldly denounce
the tempestuous longing in the human soul, — remember
them and do not forget that in them you read the justification
for so many existences, bewildering and annihilating! —
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
What is it stirring inside all these happy, smiling people?—
They have come hither in the expectation of pleasure and
gratification; — have they found what they are looking for, or