Volume 17 — SCENE IV
Anders Orbeck translation
BLANKA. [Alone.] He is gone! Ah, perfect stillness Rules upon the barren strand. Perfect stillness, grave-like stillness Rules my heart with heavy hand. Came he then to vanish only Through the mist, a ray of light? Soon he flies, a sea-gull lonely, Far away into the night! What is left me of this lover? But a flower in the dark: In my loneliness to hover Like a petrel round his bark!
[The war trumpet of the Vikings is heard from the left.]
BLANKA. Ah! What was that! A trumpet from the wood!