The Potatoes - Inge Pederson

Hospital. In sinking
yellow gardens. Water
stands still
under the trees.

Morning song - Thomas Kingo

From eastern quarters now
     The sun's up-wandering. 
His rays on the rock's brow
     And hill's side squandering; 
Be glad, my soul! and sing amidst thy pleasure,
     Fly from the house of dust,
     Up with thy thanks, and trust 
To heaven's azure!

The Wishes - Johannes Ewald

All hail, thou new year, that apparell'd in sweetness 
Now spring'st like a youth from eternity's breast! 
Oh! say, dost thou come from the bright throne of greatness, 
Our herald of merey, of gladness, and rest! 

Oh, teach me - Adam Gottlob Oehlenschläger

Oh, teach me, thou forest, to testify glad,
As in autumn the gloom of thy yellowing leaf,
That my spring cometh back after winter the sad,
That my tree gleameth green after mournfulness brief.
The roots of my tree stand strong, deep, and divine
In eternity's summer; oh, why then repine?

Lift the goblets, loud and glinting - Jens Peter Jacobsen

Lift the goblets, loud and glinting
That the burgundy is tinting
Red as dusky rubies are.

Copenhagen Watchman's Song - Thomas Kingo

Eight o'clock

When darkness blinds the Earth,

And the day declines,

That time then us reminds 

Of death’s dark grave;

Shine on us, Jesus sweet,

At every step To the grave place,

And grant a blissful death.

from: My Silent Confidant - Søren Kierkegaard

Where am I? 

What does it mean to say: the world?

What is the meaning of that word? 

Who tricked me into this whole thing and leaves me standing here?

Peter Colbiornsen - Knud Lyne Rahbek

’Fore Fredereksteen King Carl he lay

With mighty host;

But Frederekshal, from day to day,

Much trouble cost.

To seize the sword each citizen

His tools let fall,

And valiant Peter Colbiornsen

Was first of all.

Holy Spirit, come with light - N. F. S. Grundtvig

Holy Spirit, come with light,

Break the dark and gloomy night

With Thy day unending.

Help us with a joyful lay

Greet the Lord’s triumphant day

Now with might ascending.

A Picture - Steen Steensen Blicher

I lay on my heathery hills alone;

  The storm-winds rushed o'er me in turbulence loud;

My head rested lone on the gray moorland stone;

  My eyes wandered skyward from cloud unto cloud.

Let springtime come - Jens Peter Jacobsen

Let springtime come then, when it will,

With verdure greenest,

With flutelike song of myriad birds,

The Gold Horns - Adam Gottlob Oehlenschläger

Upon the pages

Of the olden ages,

And in hills where are lying

The dead, they are prying;

On armour rusty,

In ruins musty,

On Rune-stones jumbled,

With bones long crumbled.

Oh, Sing with Exultation - Anders Arrebo

Oh, sing with exultation,

Sing to the Lord, rejoice,

And in His congregation

Shout with triumphant voice.

Christ In The Corn - Ole Sarvig

I saw the corn last night,

the dreaming corn,

the corn and ears of all mankind ever

in these fields.

What have you done with your blue look? - Hulda Dagny Lütken

What have you done with your blue look?

Once your eyes were like the sky.

You Changeless One, Whom Nothing Changes - Søren Kierkegaard

You Changeless One, whom nothing changes!

Genre-Picture - Jens Peter Jacobsen

Page upon the battlement,

In the distance staring,

On a song of love intent,

Of his love's despairing.

To my country - Jens Immanuel Baggesen

Thou spot of earth, where from the breast of woe 

My eye first rose, and in the purple glow 

Of morning, and the dewy smile of love, 

Mark'd the first gleamings of the power above: 

The Pleiades at midnight - Carsten Hauch

We are the nightly weavers 

who gather the invisible threads 

from the Milky Way's outmost ring 

where the end of the loom stands. 

The fish is waiting - Jessie Kleemann

the one and only

in whose eyes I see

the fish