The night was young,
The day was old.
Or so I was told …
By the bough of an old, green oak.
“Climb up on my shoulders
I shall protect you.
From all base things below – you!
From their stagnant lower thoughts.
This I vow to you,
Till even you grow strong …
Climb up into my branches,
We two will play majhogg.
I shall give you
Two acorns …
And we shall laugh, stretch
Like two new-borns.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem