Now little Nils Finn had away to go; The skis were too loose at both heel and toe. —"That's too bad!" rumbled yonder. Then little Nils Finn in the snow set his feet: "You ugliest troll, you shall never me cheat!" —"Hee-ho-ha!" rumbled yonder. Nils Finn with his staff beat the snow till it blew "Your trollship, now saw you how hapless it flew?" —"Hit-li-hu!" rumbled yonder. Nils Finn pushed one ski farther forward with might; The other held fast,—he reeled left and right. —"Pull it up!" rumbled yonder. Nils' tears wet the snow, while he kicked and he struck; The more that he kicked there, the deeper he stuck. —"That was good!" rumbled yonder. The birch-trees, they danced, and the pine-trees said "Hoo!" They more were than one,—were a hundred and two. —"Know your way?" rumbled yonder. A laugh shook the ridge till it made the snow fly; But Nils clenched his fists and he swore 't was a lie. —"Now beware!" rumbled yonder. The snow-field yawned wide, and the heavens came low; Nils thought 't was now time for him also to go. —"Is he gone?" rumbled yonder.— Two skis in the snow looked about everywhere, But saw nothing much; for there was nothing there. —"Where is Nils?" rumbled yonder.
This poem is featured in our collection of Winter Sports Stories. You may also enjoy the poem, Winter Sport.
Return to the Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; Synnove's Song
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