An Old Mountain Troll
By Gustav Fröding
And now it's getting quite late, I think,
it will soon be a dark, black night.
I must go home in haste, I think,
but the valley is such a lovely sight.
The storm goes whirling round the mountain,
so desolate, empty and cold it is,
but the glen is pleasant and lovely green,
where people live in comfort and ease.
Methinks the little princess fair,
she passed by here recently.
She has a crown of that flaxen hair,
she'd be a tasty meal for Me.
The other rabble dare not stay,
they point their fingers and run away,
they safely fall back and start to bellow:
Shame on you, you ugly old fellow!
And she was fair-eyed and mild-eyed,
she always looked at me tenderly.
But I am evil-eyed and wild-eyed,
all beauty turns away from me.
I'd like to path her and kiss her,
but I have too big a mouth, maybe.
I'd like to caress her and ease her
and say, tu lu, little sweetie!
And in a sack I'd like to put her
and take her home for Christmas Day,
and then I'd sit down and eat her
nicely prepared on a golden plate.
But hum hum, I'm pretty dumb,
who would watch me with tender eyes,
what a blockhead I am, hum hum,
that was not very wise.
That Christian child I must leave alone,
we trolls are trolls, and if I meet her
the sweet little thing would soon be gone
'cause I couldn't help but eat her.
I could bitterly cry in this downcast mood,
'cause I-m lonely and ugly and dumb,
but it wouldn't do me nay good,
so I better go home, hum hum.
Image "Gammalt Bergstroll" (Old Mountain Troll) by John Bauer ©.
Copyright © Morion. All Rights Reserved.
No part of this website may be copied or reproduced without permission.