I Bergen, inni et gammelt hus, satt Lars.

In Bergen, inside an old house, sat Lars.

Han laget fest.

He was hosting a party.

Venner skulle komme.

Friends were supposed to come.

Også Ingrid.

Including Ingrid.

Hun var en god venn.

She was a good friend.

Hun kom med en pose i hånden.

She came with a bag in hand.

"Lars, her er mitt brødvin", sa Ingrid.

"Lars, here is my bread wine," Ingrid said.

Lars smilte og tok vinen.

Lars smiled and took the wine.

Han så på etiketten, men forsto ikke helt.

He looked at the label, but didn't quite understand.

"Ah, 'brødvin'.

"Ah, 'bread wine'.

Hvor spesielt!

How special!"

" Han tittet på flasken som glitret i lyset.

He looked at the bottle, gleaming in the light.

Etter en stund, with anighet på hjertet, bestemte Lars seg for å åpne alle vinflaskene.

After a while, with an uneasiness in his heart, Lars decided to open all the wine bottles.

Han så Ingrids vin, men husket feil.

He saw Ingrid's wine, but he remembered wrong.

Han trodde det var brennevin.

He thought it was hard liquor.

Han hadde også en flaske brennevin.

He also had a bottle of hard liquor.

Så han blandet dem.

So he mixed them up.

Festen begynte.

The party started.

Folk kom.

People came.

De lo.

They laughed.

De pratet.

They chatted.

Lars serverte sin blanding.

Lars served his mixture.

Folk visste ikke.

People didn't know.

De tok en slurk.

They took a sip.

Først var smaken rar, men så lo de.

At first, the taste was strange, but then they laughed.

De lo veldig.

They laughed a lot.

Det var noe nytt.

It was something new.

Det var noe merkelig.

It was something peculiar.

Men det var morsomt.

But it was fun.

Ingrid spurte om sin vin.

Ingrid asked about her wine.

Lars så på henne.

Lars looked at her.

Han forsto.

He understood.

Han hadde gjort feil.

He had made a mistake.

Men han sa ikke noe.

But he didn't say anything.

Folk likte det jo.

People liked it after all.

Hun ville kanskje bli sint.

She might get angry.

Han virret rundt og fant en annen vinflaske.

He wandered around and found another wine bottle.

"Ingrid, her er 'brødvin' din, vel bekomme," sa han.

"Ingrid, here is your 'bread wine', enjoy," he said.

"Men, så merkelig", sa Ingrid, "Dette er ikke mitt 'brødvin'".

"But, how strange," Ingrid said, "This is not my 'bread wine'."

Lars ble rød.

Lars turned red.

Han måtte fortelle.

He had to tell her.

Han var nervøs.

He was nervous.

Han tok en dyp pust.

He took a deep breath.

"Ingrid," Lars begynte, "Jeg trodde brødvin var brennevin.

"Ingrid," Lars began, "I thought 'bread wine' was hard liquor.

Jeg blandet dem.

I mixed them up.

Unnskyld.

I'm sorry."

"Ingrid så på ham.

Ingrid looked at him.

Hun blinket.

She blinked.

Så lo hun.

Then she laughed.

Hun lo veldig.

She laughed a lot.

Alle lo.

Everyone laughed.

“Lars, du lager et nytt slag vin", sa Ingrid.

"Lars, you've created a new kind of wine," Ingrid said.

Lars smilte.

Lars smiled.

Det var en lettelse.

It was a relief.

De fortsatte festen, med latter, smil, sang og den merkelige vinen.

They continued the party, with laughter, smiles, songs, and the peculiar wine.

Det viste seg at Ingrid's "brødvin" og Lars' brennevin laget en god blanding, som veldig godt likt av alle.

It turned out that Ingrid's "bread wine" and Lars' hard liquor made a good blend, which everyone liked very much.

De lo og omfavnet det morsomme uhellet.

They laughed and embraced the funny accident.

I Bergen, i det gamle huset, ble en ny type vin født, som var et resultat av vennskap, ærlighet, feil og selvfølgelig god moro.

In Bergen, in the old house, a new type of wine was born, as a result of friendship, honesty, mistakes, and of course, good fun.