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I dag kong Harald

Language: Norwegian (Bokmål)

I dag kong Harald
får give ting-fred;
ti Einar fulgte
fem hundred bønder.

Eindride, sønnen,
slår vagt om huset,
imens den gamle
går ind til kongen.

Så minnes Harald
måske, at Einar
har tvenne konger
i Norge kåret, --

og giver fred
og forlig på loven;
hans løfte var det,
og folket længes. --

Hvor sanden fyger
ned over vejen,
og støj der stiger? --
Se ud, min sko-svend!

-- Kanske blot vinden!
ti her er vejrhårdt:
den åbne fjord
og de lave fjælde.

Jeg minnes byen
ifra min barndom;
hid vinden hidser
der vrede hunde.

-- Men støj der tændes
af tusen stemmer?
og stål den farver
med kamprød flamme!

Ja, det er skjold-gny!
og se hvad sand-gov:
spyd-bølger hvælve
om Tambarskjelve!

Han er i trængsel! --
Troløse Harald:
Lig-ravnen løfter sig
af din ting-fred!

Kør frem med karmen,
jeg må til kampen;
nu sidde hjemme,
det galt jo livet!

  (på vejen.)

O bønder, berg ham!
slå kreds omkring ham;
Eindride, værg nu
din gamle fader!

Byg ham en skjold-borg
og giv ham buen,
ti døden pløjer
med Einars pile!

Og du, St. Olav,
o for din søns skyld!
giv du ham gagn-ord
i Gimles sale!

    (nærmere.)

Flokken de sprænger...
og kjæmper ej længer;
i bølger
de følger
hverandre mod elven,
hvad er der vel hændt?
Hvad spår denne skjælven?
Har lykken sig vendt? -
Hvad er det, hvi stanser
nu bøndernes skare? . . .
Med nedstukne lanser
to døde de kranser
og Harald får fare? --
Hvad trængsel der er
ved tingstuens port;
stille al hær
vender sig bort? -
Hvor er Eindride!
Sorgfulde blikke
flygter tilside,
frygter mit møde . . .
så kan jeg vide:
de to ere døde! --
-- Rum! Jeg må se:
Ja, det er dem! --
Kunde det ske? . . .
Jo, det er dem:

Falden er herligste
høvding i norden;
Norriges bedste
bue brusten.

Falden er Einar
Tambarskjelve,
sønnen ved side, -
Eindride!

Myrdet i mørke
han, som var Magnus
mer end fader,
Kong Knud den stores
kårede sønne-råd.

Falden for snigmord
skytten fra Svolder,
løven, som sprang over 
Lyrskog-heden!

Slagtet i baghold,
bøndernes høvding,
Trøndernes hæder,
Tambarskjelve!

Hvidhåret, hædret,
henslængt for hundene, --
sønnen ved side,
Eindride!

Op, op, bondemænd, han er falden;
men han, som fældte ham, lever!
Kenner I mig ikke? Bergliot,
datter af Håkon fra Hjørnungavåg! - 
Nu er jeg Tambarskjelves enke!

Jeg roper på eder, hær-bønder:
Min gamle husbond er falden.
Se, se, her er blod på hans blege hår!
eders hoveder kommer det over,
ti det bliver koldt uden hævn.

Op, op, hærmænd, eders høvding er falden,
eders ære, eders fader, eders børns glæde,
hele dalens ævertyr, hele landets helt,
her er han falden, og I skulle ikke hævne?

Myrdet i mørke, i kongens stue,
i tingstuen, lovstuen er han myrdet,
myrdet af lovens første mand,
O, lyn vil falde fra himlen på landet,
hvis det ikke luttres i hævnes lue!

Skyd langskibe fra land,
Einars ni langskibe ligger her,
lad dem bære hævnen til Harald!

O, stod han her, Håkon Ivarson,
stod han her på bakken, min frænde,
da fandt Einars bane ikke fjorden,
og eder, fejge, slap jeg bede!

O bønder, hør mig, min husbond er falden,
mine tankers højsæde i halvhundred år!
Vælted er det, og ved dets højre side
vor eneste søn, o al vor fremtid!
Tomt er der nu innen mine to arme;
Kan jeg vel mere få dem op til bøn?
Eller hvorhen skal jeg vende mig på jorden?
Går jeg bort til de fremmede steder, --
ak, så savner jeg dem, hvor vi levede sammen;
men vender jeg mig derhen,
ak, så savner jeg dem selv!

Odin i Valhal tør jeg ikke finne;
ti ham forlod jeg i min barndom.
Men den nye Gud i Gimle?
Hen tog jo alt, jeg havde!

Hævn? Hvem nævner hævn?
Kan hævn vække mine døde?
Eller dække over mig for kulden?
Finnes i den et tilstængt enkesæde,
eller trøst for en barnløs mor?

Gå med eders hævn; lad mig være!
Læg ham på karmen, ham og sønnen;
kom, vi vil følge dem hjem.
Den nye Gud i Gimle, den frygtelige, som tog alt,
lad ham også tage hævnen, ti den forstår han!
Kør langsomt, ti sådan kørte Einar altid;
og vi kommer tidsnok hjem.

Hundene ville ikke møde med glade hop,
men hyle og hænge med halen,
og gårdens hester ville spidse øren,
vrinske glade mod stalddøren,
og vente Eindrides stemme.

Men den lyder ikke længer,
ej heller Einars skridt i svalen,
som råbte, at nu måtte alle rejse sig,
for nu kom høvdingen!

De store stuer vil jeg stænge;
folkene vil jeg sende bort;
kvæg og hester vil jeg sælge,
flytte ud og leve ene.
Kør langsomt;
ti vi kommer tidsnok hjem.


Translation(s): ENG FRE

List of language codes

About the headline (FAQ)

Submitted by Emily Ezust [Administrator]

Authorship


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • ENG English (Nigel Parker) , title 1: "Bergliot (at the inn)", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , title 1: "Bergliot", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission


Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.

Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:01:21
Line count: 178
Word count: 781

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Bergliot (at the inn)

Language: English after the Norwegian (Bokmål)

Today King Harald will 
surely grant safe conduct,
Einar has a force of 
five hundred.

Eindride, his son, 
holds guard
while the old man 
goes in to the king.

Harald will surely 
keep in mind
that Einar has twice 
crowned kings of Norway,

and will grant him amnesty 
according to the law.
He has given his word, 
and the people long for peace.

What is that dust cloud 
afar on the road,
and increasing bustle? 
Look over there, my footboy!

It must be the wind: 
we are used to it here,
the fjord is open 
and the landscape low-lying.

I know the town 
from my childhood,
and the way the wind taunts 
the angry waves.

But I hear the sound 
of a thousand voices,
and steel reflects 
licking tongues of angry flame.

It's the sound 
of clashing shields, and look!
a sea of spears 
surrounds Tambarskjelve!

He is in peril! 
Faithless Harald!
your safe conduct 
is raven's food!

Bring out my wagon, 
I must go to the fight!
Wait here? 
this is a matter of life and death!

(on the road)

You followers, save him, 
surround and protect him!
Eindride, 
defend your old father.

Build a shield formation 
and give him his bow,
for his arrows 
are deadly.

And you Saint Olav, 
for your son's sake,
give him your support 
from Gimle.

(nearer)

They scatter the followers,
the fighting is over,
they surge 
in waves 
down to the river.
What is it?
What does my trembling portend?
Has fortune turned against us?
What is this? The followers 
are motionless.
With lowered spears 
they surround two bodies
- and Harald is allowed to escape?
And see the crowd 
at the court entrance,
the followers 
turn silently away -
Where is Eindride?!
Silently, sorrowfully, 
they avert their gaze,
afraid to meet mine,
and so I know it already: 
both are dead!
Make way! I must see for myself -
Yes, it's them!
How could this happen?
Yes, it is them.

The noblest chieftain 
in Scandinavia is no more,
the strongest bow in Norway 
is broken.

Einar Tambarskjelve 
is no more,
his son by his side, 
Eindride!

Treacherously murdered, 
he who was more 
than a father to Magnus,
And King Knut's appointed advisor 
to his own son.

An assassin's victim,
the archer of Svolder!
the lion who strode 
over Lyrskog heath!

Taken in ambush,
the people's chieftain!
Tambarskjelve, 
the pride of the Trondelag people!

White haired, honoured,
thrown to the dogs,
his son by his side,
Eindride!

Rise, rise ye people, he is fallen,
but he who cut him down still lives!
Do you not know me? Bergliot,
the daughter of Haakon of Hjorungavaag fame!
And now Tambarskjelve's widow!

I appeal to you, his warlike followers,
my aged husband is no more.
See, see the blood on his wizened locks!
You will live on,
but it will be a sorry life without revenge.

Rise, rise, warriors, your chieftain is dead,
your pride, your father, the delight of your children,
renowned here, the hero of your country
is no more, and you have no thought of vengeance?

Treacherously murdered, in the king's court,
in the parliament hall, the fount of law,
murdered by the lawgiver.
O! lightning will strike 
if revenge is not taken.

Set sail, longships!
Einar's nine longships ride at anchor,
let them wreak revenge on Harald!

O, if my kinsman Haakon Ivarson 
was here, then Einar's murderer 
would never reach the fjord,
and I would have no need of cowards like you!

O people hear me: my husband is no more,
the throne of my thoughts for half a century!
My throne is overthrown, and by its side
our only son, and all our hopes for the future!
I am now a hollow shell,
can I ever again raise my arms in prayer?
Where can I go now?
If I go into exile 
I will ache for the places we shared,
But if I go to them, 
I will ache for my loved ones.

Odin in Valhalla is nothing to me now,
for I abandoned him already in childhood.
And as for the new god, 
he has taken everything I had.

Revenge, who talks of revenge?
Can revenge restore them to life?
Or give me protection from the cold?
Can it give me a widow's sustenance,
or comfort a mother who has lost her son?

Lay vengeance aside, leave me alone!
Lay him on the wagon, together with our son,
Come, let us go home together,
The new god, the terrible one, who took everything,
let us leave revenge to him, he is the expert!
There is no haste, Einar never hurried,
we will arrive eventually.

The dogs will not jump up for joy at our homecoming,
but rather howl, their tails between their legs,
the horses will prick their ears
and their joyous neighing will fill the air,
waiting for Eindride's voice.

But that voice is no more,
nor Einar's step in the hall
which gave the message: all rise,
for your chieftain is here!

I will close all the chambers,
dismiss the servants,
sell the horses and cattle,
move away and live alone.
There is no haste,
we will arrive eventually.


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Authorship

  • Translation from Norwegian (Bokmål) to English copyright © 2010 by Nigel Parker, (re)printed on this website with kind permission. To reprint and distribute this author's work for concert programs, CD booklets, etc., you may ask the copyright-holder(s) directly or ask us; we are authorized to grant permission on their behalf. Please provide the translator's name when contacting us.

    Contact:

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    (licenses at lieder dot net)



Based on

 

Text added to the website: 2010-08-10.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:03:56
Line count: 178
Word count: 862