Turister lyste opp Karl Johans gate.

Tourists lit up Karl Johans gate.

Ingrid var der, midt i Oslo.

Ingrid was there, in the middle of Oslo.

Ingrid var drømmende.

Ingrid was dreamy.

Hun elsket musikk.

She loved music.

Helst, Edvard Grieg.

Especially, Edvard Grieg.

Han var hennes helt.

He was her hero.

En dag, gikk Ingrid i byen.

One day, Ingrid walked in the city.

Hun var helt i sine egne tanker.

She was completely lost in her thoughts.

Plutselig, smalt det.

Suddenly, there was a bang.

Ingrid hadde gått på en statue.

Ingrid had walked into a statue.

"Nei!

"No!

", ropte Ingrid.

", Ingrid shouted.

Hun så ned.

She looked down.

En plate i bakken.

A plaque on the ground.

"Edvard Grieg", stod det.

"Edvard Grieg", it said.

Ingrid var skamfull.

Ingrid felt ashamed.

Hun hadde ødelagt.

She had caused damage.

Men da, fikk hun en ide.

But then, she got an idea.

Ingrids fot tappet forsiktig i bakken.

Ingrid tapped her foot carefully on the ground.

Den begynte å gli, som på is.

It started to slide, as if on ice.

Hun snurret rundt.

She spun around.

Benene føk høyt i luften.

Legs soaring high in the air.

Hender som viste vei.

Hands leading the way.

Folk stoppet.

People stopped.

De så på.

They watched.

Ingrid danset som i en drøm.

Ingrid danced as if in a dream.

Noen startet å klappe.

Some began to clap.

Andre begynte å danse med.

Others started to dance along.

Ingrid danset og danset.

Ingrid danced and danced.

Hun hørte musikk i hodet.

She heard music in her head.

Edvard Griegs musikk.

Edvard Grieg's music.

Hun drømte seg vekk.

She dreamt away.

Ingrid var ikke lenger i Oslo.

Ingrid was no longer in Oslo.

Hun var i en verden av musikk.

She was in a world of music.

Musikk hun hadde skapt selv.

Music she had created herself.

Dansingen stoppet.

The dancing stopped.

Folk klappet.

People clapped.

Ingrid bukket.

Ingrid bowed.

Hun skjønte hva som hadde skjedd.

She understood what had happened.

Hun hadde vist sin kjærlighet til musikk.

She had shown her love for music.

Ingrid gikk hjem.

Ingrid went home.

Hun følte seg fri.

She felt free.

Hun hadde funnet sin vei.

She had found her way.

Hun hadde gitt tilbake.

She had given back.

Til byen.

To the city.

Til Edvard Grieg.

To Edvard Grieg.

Fra den dagen, var Ingrid en helt annen.

From that day on, Ingrid was a completely different person.

Hun kjenne en glede.

She felt joy.

Og byen ble fylt med musikk.

And the city was filled with music.

Hele Oslo danset.

The whole of Oslo danced.

Og der, midt i byen, stod statuen.

And there, in the middle of the city, stood the statue.

Men nå, med en annen betydning.

But now, with a different meaning.

Det var ikke bare et minne.

It was not just a memorial.

Det var starten på noe nytt.

It was the start of something new.

Sånn endte dagen, men startet noe nytt for Ingrid.

That's how the day ended, but something new began for Ingrid.

Og for Oslo.

And for Oslo.

Noe som vil alltid leve.

Something that will always live.

I musikken and dansen.

In the music and the dance.

I hjertet av byen.

In the heart of the city.