Attention! Some of this material is not in the public domain.
It is illegal to copy and distribute our copyright-protected material without permission. It is also illegal to reprint copyright texts or translations without the name of the author or translator.
To inquire about permissions and rates, contact Emily Ezust at licenses@email.lieder.example.net
If you wish to reprint translations, please make sure you include the names of the translators in your email. They are below each translation.
Note: You must use the copyright symbol © when you reprint copyright-protected material.
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.
About the headline (FAQ)
Authorship:
- by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson (1832 - 1910), "Bergliot (i herberget)" [author's text checked 1 time 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), "Bergliot" [sung text checked 1 time]
Settings in other languages, adaptations, or excerpts:
- Also set in Norwegian (Bokmål), [adaptation] ; composed by Peter Arnold Heise.
Other available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- ENG English (Nigel Parker) , "Bergliot (at the inn)", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
- FRE French (Français) (Pierre Mathé) , "Bergliot", copyright © 2010, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 178
Word count: 781
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.
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: licenses@email.lieder.example.net
Based on:
- a text in Norwegian (Bokmål) by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson (1832 - 1910), "Bergliot (i herberget)"
This text was added to the website: 2010-08-10
Line count: 178
Word count: 862