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Krummakvæði

Krummakvæði

Krumminn á skjánum kallar hann inn;
gef mér bita af borðum þínum bóndi minn.
Ólst eg upp hjá minni móður,
máttu heyra það bóndi góður,
sárlega varð af sulti móður,
svalt ég oft í kránum.
Krumminn á skjánum.
Æpti ég þá með háum hljóðum,
hörð voru ólætin.
Gef mér bita af borðum þínum
bóndi minn.
Krumminn á skjánum kallar hann inn;
gef mér bita af borðum þínum bóndi minn.
Bóndi svarar býsna reiður:
“burtu farðu krummi leiður,
lízt mér að þér lítill heiður,
ljótur ertu á tánum,
krumminn á skjánum.
Nema þú sért í svörum greiður
og segir mér tíðindin.”
Gef mér bita af borðum þínum
bóndi minn.

The Raven's Poem

The raven on the window calls inside;
give me a bite to eat my good farmer.
I was brought up by my mother,
mark my words, good farmer!
Sorely was I weary from hunger,
I often starved in the corner.
The raven on the window.
I cried out with a loud noise,
the riot was fierce.
Give me a bite to eat, my good farmer.
The raven on the window calls inside;
give me a bite to eat, my good farmer.
The farmer responds angrily:
“go away, you tiresome raven!
I find you have little honor,
your claws are ugly.
The raven on the window.
Unless you can tell me quickly
the local tidings.”
Give me a bite to eat, my good farmer.

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