Skøiteløperen

Hører du hvor Staalet skraper i den blanke Is?
Hører du hvor Skøiten synger Kappestridens Pris?
Ser du denne muntre Løper, hvor hans Muskler spændes,
som din egen Viljes Spænding Kampens Hidsning kjendes.

Isen er saa blaa som selve Glæden i dit Sind!
Se, - han bøier Hodet næsten under Armen ind,
ser sig rappt tilbake i ett Hurtigsyn: Der blinker
skarpe Jern som skjærer mot det Maal, som heftig vinker.

Næstemand er like indpaa, hør hans Aandes prusst!
Hele Mandens Seier-Vilje ligger i hans Pusst.
Ser du hvor den første frem med lange Tak sig hiver,
sammenbitt og blek, men som en Gud av Kraft og Iver.

Det er Norges Ære, som han ridser med de Jern,
Sneen festlig hilser, Skogen staar som pragtfuldt Vern.
Hil den skjønne Idræt, den som Staal i Solskin døper,
hil den is-blaa Glæde og den norske Skøiteløper!

The Speedskater

Can you hear how the steel is scraping in the shining ice?
Can you hear how the skate is singing to the praise of racing?
Can you see this jolly skater, how his muscles strain,
he feels the battle's excitement like the straining of your own will.

The ice is just as blue as the joy in your mind!
Look, - he bows his head almost in under his arm,
cast a brief glance behind, in a flash of vision: there is glinting
skarp irons that carve towards the goal that beckons thrillingly.

The next guy is just behind, hear the rasping of his breath!
The whole will to conquer in the man lies in his breath.
See how the first one heaves himself forward with long strides,
Pale and with his teeth clenched, but like a god of power and eagerness.

It is the honour of Norway he is carving with those irons,
The snow gaily greets him, the forest stands as a splendid defence.
Hail the gallant sport, which baptizes steel in sunshine,
hail the ice-blue joy and the Norwegian speedskater!