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Tyteberet uppå Tuva voks utaf ei liti Von. Skogen med si grøne Huva fostrar mang ein raudleitt Son. Eingong seint om Hausten lagde liten Svein til Ber-Skogs ut: "Raudt eg lyser," Beret sagde, "Kom åt meg, du vesle Gut. Her ifrå du må meg taka: mogjet Ber er utan Ro. Mal meg sundt, at du kan smaka Svala drykken af mitt Blod! Mognar du, so vil du beda just den sama Bøn som eg. Mogjen Mann det mest må gleda, burt for Folk å gjeva seg."
Modernized form of the text, provided by Ottar Sande:
Tytebæret oppå tuva voks ut av ei lita von. Skogen med si grøne huva fostrar mang ein raudleitt son. Ein gong seint om hausten lagde Liten svein til bærskogs ut. "Raudt eg lyser," bæret sagde, "kom åt meg, du vesle gut!" Her i frå du må meg taka! Moge bær er utan ro; mal meg sund, at du kan smaka svaledrykken av mitt blod! Mognar du, så vil du beda just den same bøn som eg. Mogen mann det mest må gleda bort for folk å gjeva seg.
Text Authorship:
- by Aasmund Olavsson Vinje (1818 - 1870), written 1858 [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Edvard Grieg (1843 - 1907), "Tytebæret", op. 33 (Tolv melodier til Digte af A.O. Vinje) no. 4 (1873-1880), published 1881 [ voice and piano ], Copenhagen [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "L'airelle", copyright © 2012, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 16
Word count: 86
L'airelle sur les coteaux naît d'un petit espoir. La forêt, avec son chapeau vert fait naître bien des enfants rouges. Un jour de fin d'automne un jeune garçon alla au bois aux baies : « je suis rouge vif -- dit la baie, viens me manger, petit garçon. Tu peux m'emmener d'ici : une baie mûre n'a pas de repos. Écrase-moi bien pour bien goûter, et bois une gorgée de mon sang ! Si tu mûris, alors tu feras la même prière que moi. Le plus grand plaisir d'un homme mûr est de se consacrer au peuple. »
Text Authorship:
- Translation from Norwegian (Nynorsk) to French (Français) copyright © 2012 by Pierre Mathé, (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.
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Based on:
- a text in Norwegian (Nynorsk) by Aasmund Olavsson Vinje (1818 - 1870), written 1858
This text was added to the website: 2012-05-05
Line count: 16
Word count: 94