Sommar etter sommar

Tarjei Vesaas (1897-1970)

Atter attende-
sommar etter sommar.
Kva jagast her?

Kva jagast her?
Linnea i granskogen?
Minnet om svirpen av ein kjole?
Badet i bekken som såg din ungdom?

Men framande er no i graset.
Stråa nikkar sakte.
Gå stilt forbi.
Gå bort.

Ja stråa nikkar sakte,
sommar etter sommar,
og sprukken jord gaper
-for her var du gut og
brann opp,
og dei mjuke svalande leppene
kom aldri hit.



Summer after Summer
Tarjei Vesaas (1897-1970)

Again and again
summer after summer,
pursuing what?

Pursuing what?
The twin flower deep in the pine forest?
The memory of a dress's rustle?
Bathing in the brook
which saw your youth?

But strangers are now in the grass.
The blades nod slowly.
Pass by quietly. Pass
on.

Yes the blades nod slowly,
summer after summer,
and the parched earth yawns
-because here
you were boy
and burning fire
but the soft, cooling lips
came never here.