Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Varherres Klinkekuler , by - Erik ByeRelease date: 31.12.2003
Song language: Norwegian
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Varherres Klinkekuler , by - Erik ByeVarherres Klinkekuler(original) |
| Jeg drømte at vår Herre var en pode med reven brok og skrubbsår på hver legg |
| Jeg så ham klinke kule med vår klode i muntre sprett mot universets vegg |
| Han klinket han var glad og det var sommer og solen tente lyn i farget glass |
| Og tusen kloder rislet fra han lommer for i vår Herres lommer er det plass |
| Og klodene fikk danse, sveve, trille til glede for hans hjerte og hans syn |
| Så ble han distrahert, og glemte spillet En sommerfugl strøk vingen mot hans |
| bryn! |
| Å for en dag å fange sommerfugler! |
| Det vakreste av alt han hadde skapt |
| På marken lå Vårherres klinkekuler og følte seg alene og fortapt |
| Omsider kom han trett, som alle poder når det er kveld og leken har vært sen |
| Han lå på kne og samlet sine kloder. |
| Da så han at han hadde mistet en |
| «Den lille blå! |
| Den minste av dem alle! |
| Han lette under gress og sten og hekk |
| «Og den som var så blank i solefallet!» |
| Men mørket kom, og kulen den var vekk |
| Det var vår egen Jord som var blitt borte, og marken lå der nattekald og våt |
| Og Gud gikk hjem og hurtet i sin skjorte. |
| Men jeg kan ikke huske om han gråt |
| Og vi som av den lille jord en båren og tror at intet teller uten den |
| Får drømme at Han leter mer i morgen og håpe at Han finner oss igjen |
| (translation) |
| I dreamed that our Lord was a graft with torn hernias and abrasions on each leg |
| I saw him clinking our globe in cheerful bounce against the wall of the universe |
| He clinked he was happy and it was summer and the sun lit lightning in colored glass |
| And a thousand globes trickled from his pockets for in our Lord's pockets there is room |
| And the globes danced, soared, rolled to the delight of his heart and his sight |
| Then he was distracted, and forgot the game A butterfly brushed its wing against his |
| brow! |
| Oh what a day to catch butterflies! |
| The most beautiful of everything he had created |
| On the field lay Our Lord's marbles, feeling alone and lost |
| At last he came tired, as everyone does when it is evening and the game has been late |
| He was on his knees and gathering his globes. |
| Then he saw that he had lost one |
| “The little blue one! |
| The smallest of them all! |
| He looked under grass and stones and hedges |
| "And the one that was so shiny in the sunset!" |
| But the darkness came, and the cool it was gone |
| It was our own Earth that had disappeared, and the ground lay there night-cold and wet |
| And God went home and hurried in his shirt. |
| But I can't remember if he cried |
| And we like from the small earth a stretcher and believe that nothing counts without it |
| Can dream that He is looking more tomorrow and hope that He finds us again |