Swedish Poetry 1
Hymn Swell song, swell high, swell over everythin
g my soul’s thirsting land! Storm, redeemer, are you drawing near – are you flying across murmuring spring waters? In my soul there is a struggling light, fearing death, it sighs above black water – renunciation’s angst and paralyzing doubt. Across a dark ocean my sail glides in the burning evening, over cool green waves flutters the last pale sparks; I hear songs ringing out, rushing rays bursting, waves clanging, dimly speaking darkly sounding; across an invisible giant harp’s strings my boat flies, in me the clang swells, my breast wants to explode, rejoice and sob in eternal melodies – strings, where will you carry me?... Vilhelm Ekelund, from Melodier i skymning (Melodies in Twilight), 1902 Translated by Johannes Göransson SWEDISH POETRY 6