Det vi ga, har vi - Det vi brukte, hadde vi - Det vi etterlot oss, mistet vi...

One after another, hard-pressed waves
Curl in the green motion
And hiss white foam into
The brownness of sea shores

Leisurely clouds one after another
Break open their round motion
And sun burns the air clouds.

Indifferent to me, as I to her,
This fair day`s disposition
Takes little from my sense.
Of time evaporating.

Only a vague inconsequential ache
Halts a moment at the portal of my soul
And, after staring briefly at me,
Passes on, smiling at nothing...