Det stig av Hav eit Alveland
med Tind og Mo;
det kviler klaart mot Himilrand
i kveldblaa Ro.
Eg saag det tidt som sveipt i Eim
bak Havdis graa;
det er ein huld, ein heilag Heim,
me ei kann naa.
Ho søv, den fine Tinderad
i Draume-bann;
men so ei Stund ved Soleglad
ho kjem i Brand.
Naar Dagen sig som Eld og Blod
i Blaae-Myr,
det logar upp med Glim og Glod
og Æventyr.
Det brenn i Brè og skjelv og skin
med Gullan-Bragd,
og Lufti glø’r i Glans av Vin,
Sylv og Smaragd.
Men av han døyr, den bleike Brand
som slokna Glod,
og klaart som fyrr ligg Alveland
i kveldblaa Ro.
Eg lengta tidt paa trøytte Veg
der ut til Fred;
men Lande fyrst kann syne seg,
naar Sol gjeng ned.
An Elfenland rises from the Ocean
with Peaks and Hills;
it rests clear on the Horizon
in Evening Blue calm.
I saw it often as covered in Mist
behind the grey Ocean fog;
it is a hidden, holy Home,
we cannot reach.
She sleeps, the fine Mountain Range
in bands of Dreams;
but for a little while at Sunset
she is lit on Fire.
When the Day ends like Fire and Blood
in the Blue Bog,
it flares up with Glints and Embers
and adventure.
It lights up the Glacier and shimmer and shines
with a Golden light,
and the Air glows in the hues of Wine,
Silver and Emerald.
But then he dies, the pale Giant
as a put out Ember,
and just as clear as before lies Elfenland
in Evening Blue calm.
I often longed on the Winding Road
out there to peace;
but the Land can only reveal itself,
once the Sun sets.
From the ocean Elfland rises,
Its pinnacles
Resting clear near the horizon
In twilight calm.
I've seen it often cloaked in mist
Behind grey seas;
It is a hidden, holy home
I cannot reach.
She sleeps, that lovely mountain range
Wreathed in dreams;
But for a moment at sunset
Her fire gleams.
When the day turns to fire and blood
In the blue mire
Then up it flares with glint and gleed
And adventure.
Then glaciers burn and shimmershine
With golden sheen
And glows the glossy air with wine,
Silver, and green.
But then he dies, that pale fire,
An ember snuffed out.
And clear again lies Elfenland
In twilight calm.
I've often longed, on the weary road,
To find peace there
But the Land comes only as the sun
Disappears.