====== #591 - Der Ligger et Land, No.1b (There Lies a Fair Land, No.1b—Norwegian) ====== [[..:590:|prev]] | [[..:592:|next]] /*-20note-*//*-multi-*/ *Composer: *++Rikard Nordraak|{{search>"Rikard Nordraak" @cobs}}++ (1842-1866), 1863 *arr. ++Edvard Hagerup Grieg|{{search>"Edvard Hagerup Grieg" @cobs}}++ (1843-1907), 1880 *Also known as: *There Lies The Country *Gamle Norge *Old Norway *[[/data/media/midi/591.mid|MIDI]] | ++show|\\ {{http://www.rollerorgans.com/mid2roll.php?cob=591&.gif?}}++ *[[/cob_label/index.php|Print a Label]] *++Lyrics:|\\ Der ligger et land mod den evige sne,\\ i revnerne kun er der vårliv at se.\\ Men havet går til med historie-døn,\\ og elsket er landet som mor af søn.\\ \\ Hun tog os i fanget, dengang vi var små,\\ og gav os sin saga med billeder på.\\ Vi læste, så øjet blev stort og vådt;\\ da smilte den gamle og nikked blot.\\ \\ Vi sprang ned til fjorden, vi stirrede mod\\ den askegrå bauta, hvor gammel den stod;\\ hun stod der end ældre, sa' ingen ting;\\ men stensatte hauger lå rundt i ring.\\ \\ Hun tog os ved hånden, og følge hun gav\\ bort derfra til kirken så stille og lav,\\ hvor fædrene ydmygt har bøjet knæ,\\ og mild'lig hun sagde: gør I som de!\\ \\ Hun strødde sin sne over fjældbratte li,\\ bød så sine gutter at stå den på ski.\\ Hun knuste med stormhånd det nordhavs spejl,\\ bød så sine gutter at hejse sejl.\\ \\ Hun satte de vakreste jenter i rad\\ at følge vor idræt med smil og med kvad,\\ og selv sad hun højt i sin sagastol\\ og måneskinskåben opunder pol.\\ \\ Da lød der et fremad! et fremad endnu\\ på fædrene-mål og med fædrene-hu\\ for frihed, for norskhed, for Norge hurra!\\ og fjældene selv roper langt hurra.\\ \\ Da løsned' begejstringens rullende fån,\\ da døbtes vi af hendes mægtige ånd,\\ da stod over fjældet et syn i glød,\\ som siden os maner indtil vor død.\\ \\ ++ *++Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson|{{search>"Bjørnstjerne Martinius Bjørnson" @cobs}}++ (1832-1910), 1859 *++Lyrics:|\\ There lies a fair land near eternal snow,\\ In cracks of mountains alone does it grow,\\ But woven with sea all its history runs,\\ And loved is the country as mother by sons.\\ \\ She took on her lap us the time we were small,\\ And gave us her saga with pictures and all.\\ We read so our eyes then grew big and wet,\\ The old one just nodded and smiled at that.\\ \\ We went to the fjord and we stared around\\ The ashen grey bautastone, old we it found.\\ She stood there the elder said not a thing,\\ But hillocks with stone set stood round in ring.\\ \\ She spread the white snow over mountain and lea\\ And said to her boys they should stand there on ski.\\ She opened with storm hand the North Sea trail\\ And told her young sons to be hoisting sail.\\ \\ She took by the hand us, and leading us so\\ She went to the church building still and low,\\ Where forefathers humbly have bent their knee,\\ So mildly she told us: Do you as they!\\ \\ She gathered the prettiest girls in a throng\\ To follow our doings with smile and with song.\\ Herself she sat high on her saga stool\\ With coating of moonbeams up under (the) pole.\\ \\ Then sounded a Forward, a Forward, and Now!\\ In forefathers' tongue, as forefathers knew how,\\ For Freedom, for Norsehood, for Norway hurra!\\ The mountains themselves shout a loud hurra.\\ \\ Then welled our spirits like slide in decline,\\ And baptized we were by her pow'r divine.\\ Then over the mountain a glow stood high\\ That evermore steels us until we die.\\ \\ ++ *trans. ++Dina Knudsen|{{search>"Dina Knudsen" @cobs}}++ *See also: *[[..:579:]] *[[..:1073:]]