From the collection of poems Kolvaktarens visor published in 1915
I wait by my log fire as the hours pass,
while the stars wander and the nights pass.
I'm waiting for a woman from miles around...
the dearest, the dearest with eyes blue.
I imagined a wandering snow-covered flower
and dreamed of a quivering, elusive laugh,
I thought I saw the most beloved coming
through the woods, across the moors on a snowy night.
Gladly I wanted to carry my dream on my hands
through the thickets to where my hut stands,
and raise a jubilant cry against the dear one:
Welcome, you who have waited for years alone!
I wait at my mila while the hours suffer
while the forests sing and the clouds move.
I'm waiting for a wanderer from far away...
the dearest, the dearest with eyes blue.
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