Showing posts with label folk poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label folk poetry. Show all posts
Monday, July 16, 2007
Rida, rida ranka
To hear the tune & a sample of this folksong, visit Minnesota Folk Arts Directory. To read the words in Swedish & English translation, go here.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Ode to Coffee
Hyllningsdikt Till Kaffet
Of all the good things that one consumes,
among all the worldly drinks,
the coffee sip is the very best.
It disperses the whims of men,
it fortifies the body and quickens the mind.
One feels it from the head down to the heel.
Halleluja.
When fall comes with wind and snow,
when spring begins its rains,
then one becomes bleak and dull.
All one wants to do is to sleep and quibble.
Yes, one's whole body is out of sorts,
but then ... there is health in the coffee cup!
Halleluja.
When the wife has lost her beloved husband
and sits alone with the debts,
she bitterly mourns her twofold plight
but puts the coffee pot on the fire.
And when the coffee is clear she leaves the bier
and gets strength in a sip of coffee.
Halleluja.
When the latest news be gathered in
from the city's hundred sources,
at a small nice party
one would see one's friends and intimates.
At the coffee table one does the very best
gossiping about the neighbors.
Halleluja.
One would suck her lump of sugar with the coffee,
another would love to dip the bread,
meanwhile talking with such force
that the ears ought to be plugged.
Just as the drums roar at an army camp
the tongues clamor at the conference.
Halleluja.
Without coffee--oh, heavenly drink,
what would human life be!
All the news not yet in print
stands written in the bottom of the pot:
Because after the last drop is gone
life's riddles are "solved" in the coffee grounds!
Halleluja.
From Of Swedish Ways by Lilly Lorenzen, illustrated by Dick Sutphen, Gilbert Publishing Company, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 1964.
Of all the good things that one consumes,
among all the worldly drinks,
the coffee sip is the very best.
It disperses the whims of men,
it fortifies the body and quickens the mind.
One feels it from the head down to the heel.
Halleluja.
When fall comes with wind and snow,
when spring begins its rains,
then one becomes bleak and dull.
All one wants to do is to sleep and quibble.
Yes, one's whole body is out of sorts,
but then ... there is health in the coffee cup!
Halleluja.
When the wife has lost her beloved husband
and sits alone with the debts,
she bitterly mourns her twofold plight
but puts the coffee pot on the fire.
And when the coffee is clear she leaves the bier
and gets strength in a sip of coffee.
Halleluja.
When the latest news be gathered in
from the city's hundred sources,
at a small nice party
one would see one's friends and intimates.
At the coffee table one does the very best
gossiping about the neighbors.
Halleluja.
One would suck her lump of sugar with the coffee,
another would love to dip the bread,
meanwhile talking with such force
that the ears ought to be plugged.
Just as the drums roar at an army camp
the tongues clamor at the conference.
Halleluja.
Without coffee--oh, heavenly drink,
what would human life be!
All the news not yet in print
stands written in the bottom of the pot:
Because after the last drop is gone
life's riddles are "solved" in the coffee grounds!
Halleluja.
From Of Swedish Ways by Lilly Lorenzen, illustrated by Dick Sutphen, Gilbert Publishing Company, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 1964.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Varan Prost
by Gustaf Froeding (1860-1911):
Our Dean
is round as a cheese
and learned as the devil himself,
but sociable anyway
and a kind soul
and is not ashamed that his father was a farmer.
He lives like we do
and "spikes" his coffee
as we do
and does not reject the bottle,
loves food
as we do
--but on holidays, that's something else.
As soon as he dons the clerical robe
the rest of us feel miserably small,
but the Dean seems to grow
because then he is Dean from top to toe
and a magnificent Dean at that
in a large parish with accessions.
I shall never forget in all my days,
how imposing he was
recently, in his robe and his collar,
how he put the worldly humans through the mill
and laid down the law to us!
And the Dean wept, no wonder,
he spoke of the Judgment Day!
And all of us wept profusely, too,
because it stung the flesh
and the soul was under pressure.
And the church council members sneaked out
with stooped backs
behind the Dean
because they were called to a meeting.
But of course
we recovered
when the Dean finally cleared his throat
and said: "Welcome
to the smorgasbord and the schnapps!"
From Of Swedish Ways by Lilly Lorenzen, illustrated by Dick Sutphen, Gilbert Publishing Company, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 1964.
Our Dean
is round as a cheese
and learned as the devil himself,
but sociable anyway
and a kind soul
and is not ashamed that his father was a farmer.
He lives like we do
and "spikes" his coffee
as we do
and does not reject the bottle,
loves food
as we do
--but on holidays, that's something else.
As soon as he dons the clerical robe
the rest of us feel miserably small,
but the Dean seems to grow
because then he is Dean from top to toe
and a magnificent Dean at that
in a large parish with accessions.
I shall never forget in all my days,
how imposing he was
recently, in his robe and his collar,
how he put the worldly humans through the mill
and laid down the law to us!
And the Dean wept, no wonder,
he spoke of the Judgment Day!
And all of us wept profusely, too,
because it stung the flesh
and the soul was under pressure.
And the church council members sneaked out
with stooped backs
behind the Dean
because they were called to a meeting.
But of course
we recovered
when the Dean finally cleared his throat
and said: "Welcome
to the smorgasbord and the schnapps!"
From Of Swedish Ways by Lilly Lorenzen, illustrated by Dick Sutphen, Gilbert Publishing Company, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 1964.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
"Rida, rida ranka"
Here is a Swedish folk song that my grandmother, Hazel Peterson Bogle, sang to me while she bounced me on her foot and leg, crossed to form a rocker:
Rida, rida ranka
Hästen heter Blanka.
Vart ska vi rida?
Rida sta och fria
Till en liten piga.
Vad ska hon heta?
Jungfru Margareta
Den tjocka och feta.
När vi kom till hennes gård
Så var där ingen hemma,
Bara en gammal gumma
Lärde sin dotter spinna.
Ride, ride on my knee
The horse's name is Blanka.
Where are we riding?
Riding away to woo
A little girl.
What will be her name?
Maiden Margareta
The fat and chubby.
When we came to her house
No one was at home
But an old woman
Who taught her daughter to spin.
"Spinn, spinn, dotter min,
I morgon kommer friarn din."
Dottern spann och tåren rann
Men aldrig kom den friarn fram
Förrn till andra året
Med gullband i håret.
"Spin, spin, my daughter,
Tomorrow your suitor will come."
The daughter spun and the tear ran
But the suitor never came
Until the year after
With golden ribbons in his hair.
From Of Swedish Ways (diacritical marks added on August 6, 2014) by Lilly Lorenzen, illustrated by Dick Sutphen, Gilbert Publishing Company, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 1964, pp. 192-193.
Rida, rida ranka
Hästen heter Blanka.
Vart ska vi rida?
Rida sta och fria
Till en liten piga.
Vad ska hon heta?
Jungfru Margareta
Den tjocka och feta.
När vi kom till hennes gård
Så var där ingen hemma,
Bara en gammal gumma
Lärde sin dotter spinna.
Ride, ride on my knee
The horse's name is Blanka.
Where are we riding?
Riding away to woo
A little girl.
What will be her name?
Maiden Margareta
The fat and chubby.
When we came to her house
No one was at home
But an old woman
Who taught her daughter to spin.
"Spinn, spinn, dotter min,
I morgon kommer friarn din."
Dottern spann och tåren rann
Men aldrig kom den friarn fram
Förrn till andra året
Med gullband i håret.
"Spin, spin, my daughter,
Tomorrow your suitor will come."
The daughter spun and the tear ran
But the suitor never came
Until the year after
With golden ribbons in his hair.
From Of Swedish Ways (diacritical marks added on August 6, 2014) by Lilly Lorenzen, illustrated by Dick Sutphen, Gilbert Publishing Company, Minneapolis, Minnesota, 1964, pp. 192-193.
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