1. |
Snowflakes
01:11
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2. |
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Jeg gik mig i Skoven en sildig Sommerkvæld
Og tømte mig at Bæger, af sprudlende Væld.
Men vogt dig, vogt dig, o min Pige, for Elverkongen seer dig!
Den brusende Bølge sprang ud fra grønne Høj;
Med et saa blev den stille, den flød uden Støj.
Men vogt dig…
Da tonede Luften af Sang og Strengespil,
Tre hvide Møer dansed i Duggen dertil.
Som Duft over Engen, saa flygtig til at se,
De trende blev til en og den ene til tre.
Han selv stod i Midten af hines lette Sving:
Da drog han af sin Finger en kostelig Ring.
Jeg greb efter Ringen, men han greb min Haand;
De hvide Møer slynged omkring os et Baand.
Nu bor jeg i Højen som Elverkongens Brud,
Og kun naar Duggen falder, jeg vover mig ud.
Men vogt dig, vogt dig, o min Pige, for Elverkongen seer dig!
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3. |
The Weaver's Song
03:02
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When Hercules did use to spin,
And Pallas wrought upon the loom,
Our trade to flourish did begin,
While conscience went not selling broom
Then love and friendship did agree
To keep the bands of amity.
When princes’ sons kept sheep in field,
And queens made cakes of wheated flour,
The men to lucre did not yield,
And brought good cheer in every bower;
Then love and friendship…
But when the Gyants huge and high
Did fight with spears like weavers’ beams,
Then they in iron beds did lye,
And brought poor men to hard extreams;
Yet love and friendship…
But while the Greeks besiegèd Troy,
Penelope apace did spin;
And weavers wrought with mickle joy,
Though little gains were coming in;
For love and friendship…
Had Helen then sate carding wooll,
(Whose beauteous face did breed such strife),
She had not been Sir Paris’ trull
Nor caused so many to lose their life;
Yet we by love did still agree…
Or had King Priam’s wanton son
Been making quills with sweet content,
He had not then his friends undone,
When he to Greece a-gadding went;
For love and friendship….
The cedar-trees endure more storms
Then little shrubs that sprout on high,
The weavers live more void of harms,
Then princes of great dignity;
While love and friendship…
The shepherd sitting in the field
Doth tune his pipe with heart’s delight;
When princes watch with spear and shield,
The poor man soundly sleeps all night;
While love and friendship…
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4. |
Rävens Polska
03:59
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5. |
Bones down the Waterfall
05:30
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A village on a winter morn
The streams and rivers all frozen o’er
down, down the waterfall
A young maid rushed towards her lover
and the bones lie there eternal
She knew well what he needed
His reputation him proceeded
down, down the waterfall
Her mother’s warnings she had not heeded
and the bones lie there eternal
A secret place, a lovers’ tryst
Hidden by the ice and mist
behind the waterfall
Where many a maiden he had kissed
and the bones lie there eternal
But one kiss from you will I allow
For my sisters that I saw
go down, down the waterfall
The cold, hard ground enshrouds them now
and their bones lie there eternal
Your lies are done, my false lover
For what you took, you’ll go forever
down, down the waterfall
I found you out, tho’ you were clever
and the bones lie there eternal
False love called, revenge replied
She struck him hard, a curse she cried
behind the waterfall
One last foul deed before he died
and the bones lie there eternal
She made him bleed for his crime
He dragged her down one final time
down, down the waterfall
And so they died with limbs entwined
and their bones lie there eternal
The thaw will wash the blood away
Spring will not recall that day
behind the waterfall
But the murmuring river will tell where
their bones lay eternal
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6. |
Masurka fra Eidsvoll
03:32
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7. |
Petrichore
03:11
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8. |
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“Waar waart ge vannacht in dat wilde weer, Smid van ‘t Arendswoud?
In huis en hof klonk klaaglijk stage roep van wee.”
In huis en hof de weemoed klaagde.
“Ik zwalkte vannacht op de poelen, o Moeder van de Gouw;
De wind wierp gierend mijn vischboot weerloos op den wal.”
De wind wierp wild zijn boot op d’oever.
“Vanwaar is dat bloed aan je hand, zeg mij, Smid van ‘t Arendswoud?”
Ge staart zo droef, ach, mijn Wiebe, brak die nacht je moed?”
Ach, brak die nacht zijn heldenmoed!
“Met deze hand doodd’ ik vannacht, lieve Moeder van de Gouw,
Den abt van ‘t gindsche klooster, - wee, hij was mijn broer!”
Hij sloeg zijn broer onwetend neder!
“O ramp, nu nadert de stonde, die Radbodvaer voorzag!
Dat gouw en steden vergaan als de broer zijn broer verslaat,”
O ramp, straks zullen stad en gouw vergaan!
“Waar Nornen beschikken is geen ontwijk, Voedster van de Gouw;
Daar buigen goden en menschen vroom berustend ‘t hoofd.”
Daar buigen god en mensch het hoofd.
“Het leven ontglipt ons van heil tot vloek, Smid van ‘t Arendswoud.”
“Er volgt geen dag op dit duister, eedle Vrouw der Gouw.”
Er volgt geen dag meer na dit duister.
“Waar moet je nu heen, mijn Toevlucht, mijn Wieb van ‘t Arendswoud?”
“Ik wil gaan dole’ op de waat’ren, van der gouwe Vrouw.”
Hij wil gaan dolen op de waat’ren.
“Hoe lang zult ge dolen, mijn Hope, mijn Held van ‘t Arendswoud?”
“Zoolang één Fries nog de goden van zijn Ouden eert.”
Zoolang één Fries zijn oude goden eert.
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9. |
Brudmarsch från Jämtland
04:11
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10. |
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What is a woman that you forsake her,
And the hearth-fire and the home-acre,
To go with the old grey Widow-maker?
She has no house to lay a guest in -
But one chill bed for all to rest in,
That the pale suns and the stray bergs nest in.
She has no strong white arm to fold you,
But the ten-times-fingering weed to hold you
Bound on the rocks where the tide has rolled you.
Yet, when the signs of summer thicken,
And the ice breaks, and the birch-buds quicken,
Yearly you turn from our side, and sicken -
Sicken again for the shouts and the slaughters, -
You steal away to the lapping waters,
And look at your ship in her winter quarters.
You forget our mirth, and talk at the tables,
The kine in the shed and the horse in the stables -
To pitch her sides and go over her cables!
Then you drive out where the storm-clouds swallow:
And the sound of your oar-blades falling hollow,
Is all we have left through the months to follow.
Ah, what is Woman that you forsake her,
And the hearth-fire and the home-acre,
To go with the old grey Widow-maker?
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11. |
Whispers
05:29
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Mother, can you hear me?
May I join in with your song?
Through you I will take my place in
The lineage to which I belong
I see you - in every scar, in every wrinkle
I call to you – with every silent word, with every song
Tell me, sisters, of our power
Whisper with voices lost in time
Reveal in this, the witching hour,
Secrets burned into the mind
I hear you – calling from beyond the ages
I feel you – fading shadows flitting on my soul
Loved one, I can feel you
We should never have to hide
Skin to skin, the truth comes out
We will face the world with pride
I know you – hidden sparks will light the flame
I hold you – your threads firmly woven into mine
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12. |
Sneeuwvlokjeswals
07:08
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Hanna van Gorcum Rotterdam, Netherlands
Violinist, singer, nyckelharpa player from the Netherlands. Influences are from traditional Scandinavian and Irish music, as well as baroque and rock.
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