Silently he wandered on through the country of the Alps,
which seemed to him like a fruit garden, covered with soft turf.
From the wooden balconies of the houses the young lacemakers nodded
as he passed. The summits of the mountains glowed in the red
evening sunset, and the green lakes beneath the dark trees
reflected the glow. Then he thought of the sea coast by the bay
Kjoge, with a longing in his heart that was, however, without pain.
There, where the Rhine rolls onward like a great billow, and
dissolves itself into snowflakes, where glistening clouds are ever
changing as if here was the place of their creation, while the
rainbow flutters about them like a many-colored ribbon, there did
Knud think of the water-mill at Kjoge, with its rushing, foaming
waters. Gladly would he
