Johannes Wiedewelt - in Memory of Wiedewelt

In Memory of Wiedewelt

From Adam Oehlenschlæger's poem written in 1803 in memory of Johannes Wiedewelt.

Taus hun sukker
Bølgen mildt sig lukker
om den gamle Tindings sølvgråe Haar.
Hun forsvinder.
Dagen bleg oprinder;
Hist paa Frihedsstøtten Lærken slaaer.

Troskab græder
I de hvide Marmorklæder
Kold og bleg, den ranke hulde Mø.
Haand paa Brystet
Aldrig aldrig trøstet,
stirrer hun henpå den sorte Sø"

Silently she sighs
The mild waves close in
Round the old man's tempels, his silver-grey hair.
She disappears.
The pale day runs out.
Yonder on Freedom's Monument the lark sounds.

Faithfulness cries
In its white marble clothes
Cold and pale, the proud gracious maiden
Hand on breast
Never, never comforted
She stares out onto the dark lake.