BURNT SHIPS
by: Henrik Ibsen
O skies that were brighter
- Turned he his prows;
- To gods that were lighter
- Made he his vows.
- The snow-land's mountains
- Sank in the deep;
- Sunnier fountains Lulled him to sleep.
- He burns his vessels,
- The smoke flung forth
- On blue cloud-trestles
- A bridge to the north.
- From the sun-warmed lowland
- Each night that betides,
- To the huts of the snow-land
- A horseman rides.
No comments:
Post a Comment