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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=351447" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To my father (upon his retirement)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In all the land our race was once excelling.<br>In richer regions it e'en now possesses<br>Broad seats and fruitful; but by fate's hard stresses</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our<br>branch was bent and bowed to blows compelling.<br>Now toward the light again it lifts aloft<br>Its top, and fresh buds crown it, fair and soft.<br>The flowing fountain of <br>your<br>faith has laved it,<br>To life's late evening thus your strength has saved it.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As rests the race in time of chill and rigor,<br>And from the deeps that lie within its being<br>Draws to it what alone can nourish, freeing<br>Its powers to full prophecy of vigor,-<br>So I divined the unseen stir in you<br>Of nature's might that you could not subdue;<br>It was so strong, from sire to son surviving,<br>In mystery mute descends this power's striving.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Upon this poured its radiant warmth pervading<br>My mother's soul; of wedded joy the glory<br>Crowns not alone your aged heads and hoary;<br>But it shall death outlive in light unfading.<br>And if my people ever truly prize<br>The pictured home that in my writings lies,<br>Honor of love and faith serene, unbroken,-<br>Of father, mother, both, shall praise be spoken.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If men remember the Norwegian peasant,<br>As from the field of toil or saga fateful<br>I conjured him; to you they shall be grateful,<br>Father, in whom love let me find him present.<br>And if the woman whom I made them view<br>In sun-like splendid faith and spirit true,<br>By women is approved, it is the other<br>Who has their homage, my sweet-natured mother.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And now you'll rest the evening long and cheery<br>From the day's work in fair or troubled weather,<br>And of the by-gone time you'll talk together,<br>Of many a mile you trod with footsteps weary,-<br>Now will as sunlight on the winter's snow,<br>A warmth of thanks in through the window glow,<br>Harsh memories mellow with its golden shining,<br>Your life in faith complete find its refining.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But none gives thanks as now that son in gladness,<br>For whom you lived in anxious fear unceasing,<br>Since forth he flew with strength of wing increasing,<br>For whom to God you prayed in joy and sadness.<br>Oh, know, when hot my blood burned over-much,<br>I felt your soothing hands my forehead touch,<br>And oft, my heart in mute repentance bleeding,<br>In thoughts of you I heard God's gentle pleading.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And so I pray that I may have the power<br>(Since we again for life shall be united,<br>And hope 'mid mirthful mem'ries be relighted),<br>To brighten now their every evening-hour!<br>When children's children in their arms shall be,<br>Oh, let them morning in their evening see!<br>So shall they gladly lay, when death gives warning,<br>Their gray heads down to greet the dawning morning.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Bj%C3%B8rnstjerne+Bj%C3%B8rnson">Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=351447" data-title="To my father (upon his retirement) de Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson" data-description="In all the land our race was once excelling.
In richer regions it e'en now possesses
Broad seats and fruitful; but by fate's hard stresses

Our
branch was bent and bowed to blows compelling.
Now toward the light again it lifts aloft
Its top, and f..."></div>
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