BLANKA.
Mit liv var ligt
en blomsterknop, i fremmed jordbund plantet,
og derfor blunded den i svøbet fængslet:
da kom en stråle fra det fjerne hjem, –
o, det var dig, min Gandalf! Blomsten åbned
sit bæger. Ak, et flygtigt øjeblik,
så blegned strålen, – blomsten måtte dø!
BLANKA.
My life was like a flower,
Transplanted in an unfamiliar soil,
Which therefore slumbered in its prison folds:
Then came a sunbeam from the distant home,--
O, that was you, my Gandalf! Opened then
The flower its calyx. In another hour,
Alas! the sunbeam paled,--the flower died!
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