Proud Infidel ranting about the ongoing war against democratic and secular values (Don't fool yourselves)! Maybe a voice of sanity in a wide ocean of madness.


Fritiof in Arcadia

On Colla Bella's heights, where goats are bounding
And pine-trees thinly shade the yellow sand,
There is a grassy glade, with palms surrounding
And gently sloping to the vine-clad strand.
There one sees Corsica in clearer weather
And distant provinces in azure rows:
There one can smell the clover and the heather,
And one can wander lightly as a feather
Up in the mountain, without any clothes.

I rambled nude and happy there one morning:
I'd come from Gothenburg across the seas.
A fig-leaf wreath my body was adorning,
And in a box I carried bread and cheese.
It was a lovely day: above me singing
I heard the little nightingale so rare:
Just like a bird set free from prison winging,
I gamboled gaily, back to Nature springing,
For I would lie upon Earth's bosom fair.

The goats and sheep were leaping all around me:
Like little clouds they looked, so white and small.
I felt the nightingale's sweet song surround me –
I was a part of all this pastoral!
But in a while, about my dinner thinking,
Upon the grass I sat to taste my fare:
My wine I opened and I soon was drinking,
But when my head I turned I started blinking –
I saw a naked maiden smiling there!

In all my life I'd seen such beauty never!
She came and stood quite near me on the green,
And then before I got my wits together
Two other lovely maids came on the scene.
They laughed and frolicked there without chemises
And sang: "Oh, happy days are here again!"
Then up I sprang, forgetting wine and cheeses!
I tossed my fig-leaf girdle to the breezes!
The maidens ran while I pursued in vain.

But in the evening I was in the city,
And there again I met the lovely three,
And they were clad in dresses white and pretty,
As sweet three graces as a man could see.
But one so boldly took me by the hand then,
And said "I'm leaving on an early train".
We walked beneath the palms along the strand, then:
We talked and drew some pictures in the sand, then,
And sang: "Oh, happy days are here again!"

"I come from San Francisco," said the maiden,
"That's why I like to climb about the hills.
I like to frolic without clothing laden,
For I love Nature without fuss or frills.
Yes, in America we're far more clever,
While here in Europe you are more mondaine!
But you and I are much the same, however –
Oh let us wander side by side forever!
Oh, darling, happy days are here again!"

Evert Taube Himlajord


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