Skal altid fæste mit hår under hue
Language: Danish (Dansk)
Our translations: ENG FRE
Skal altid fæste mit Hår under Hue,
Tør aldrig binde en Sløjfe deri;
Ilde lugter den Kræmmerstue -
Hvem der som Fuglen var fri!
Min Moder var dog en stadselig Frue;
Kom, lille Spejl, lad mig se.
De kaldte ved Dåben mig "Due",
Hun flyver helst i det fri.
De Klokker ringe til Ottesang,
Nu bliver Dyvekes Dag så lang;
Og vil jeg af Byen med Moder gå,
Dèr spærre de Bjerge så isengrå.
Men ude i Haven står Urter og Blommer,
Dèr drømmer mit Hjerte blandt Zwibler og Løg;
Krydret dufter den liflige Sommer,
Og Hjertet slår som en Gøg.
Det slår mod min Hånd, under Huden det trommer,
Det varsler så langt, så langt mig et Liv.
Vær hilset, du Fugl, mellem Urter og Blommer,
vær hilset, vær hilset du kukkende Gøg!
Confirmed with Drachmann, Holger,
Samlede Petiske Skrifter - Folkeudgave - Fjerde bind, Gyldendalske Boghandel Nordisk Forlag, Kjøbenhavn og Kristiania, 1907.
Text Authorship:
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:
- Also set in German (Deutsch), a translation by Heinrich Zschalig ; composed by Peter Arnold Heise.
Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Camilla Bugge) , "Must always fasten my hair 'neath my cap", copyright © 2004, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Je dois toujours attacher mes cheveux sous mon bonnet", copyright © 2013, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Research team for this page: Camilla Bugge , Pierre Mathé
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website: 2004-12-11
Line count: 20
Word count: 133
Must always fasten my hair 'neath my cap
Language: English after the Danish (Dansk)
Must always fasten my hair 'neath my cap,
dare never tie a ribbon therein;
the shop smells foul -
oh to be free like the bird!
My mother was a stately lady;
come, little mirror, and let me see.
At my christening they called me "Dove",
she would rather fly free.
The bells are ringing for matins,
now Dyveke's day will be so long;
and if I wish to leave the town with mother,
the irongrey mountains bar our path.
But out in the garden grow herbs and flowers,
there my heart dreams among onions and bulbs;
spicily fragrant the delightful summer,
and the heart throbs like a cuckoo.
It beats against my hand, and drums under the skin,
it promises a long life for me.
Greetings, bird, among herbs and flowers,
greetings, warbling cuckoo!
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Danish (Dansk) to English copyright © 2004 by Camilla Bugge, (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: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
This text was added to the website: 2004-12-11
Line count: 20
Word count: 134
