Høgen - Merete Hjortsø, Карл Нильсен

Vær hilset, høg, over granetop!

Du stoltest fugl i skoven

Du stirrer trodsigt mod himlen op

Din flugt er vild og forvoven

Du kløver brisen i vilden lyst

Mens grønligt øjnene spejde

Du hugger dit næb i din fjendes bryst

Og aldrig du skænker ham lejde

Du er en røver for Gud og mand

I blod du sølede hammen

Du ser med foragt på den vrikkende and

Der spejler sin fedme i dammen

Jeg elsker vel ej din blodige klo

Men flugtens sus på din bringe

Dit vilde blik fra dit stolte bo

Og solens blink på din vinge

Be greeted, hawk, over the spruce top!

You proudest bird in the woods

You stare defiantly up at the sky

Your escape is wild and intertwined

You split the breeze in the wild light

While greenish the eyes scout

You chop your beak into your enemy's chest

And never you give him rent

You are a robber for God and man

In blood you spilled the ham

You look with contempt at the wiggling duck

That reflects its obesity in the pond

I guess I do not love your bloody claw

But the whisper of flight on your bring

Your wild gaze from your proud bo

And the sun flashes on your wing