Saturday, October 31, 2015
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Thorsday Tonic - Listen, Smith Of The Heavens!
Hallowe'en approaches -- one of my favorite holidays and probably the most eagerly anticipated event in the year for most American and Canadian children.
I'm just getting warmed up again after a prolonged hiatus (life happens, NiftyReaders!), and what better way to do so than with an amazing piece of music based on an ancient song to a Norse god? It's the ideal warm up for Hallowe'en, too!
Enjoy!
I'm just getting warmed up again after a prolonged hiatus (life happens, NiftyReaders!), and what better way to do so than with an amazing piece of music based on an ancient song to a Norse god? It's the ideal warm up for Hallowe'en, too!
Enjoy!
Lyrics:
Heyr, himna smiður,
hvers skáldið biður. Komi mjúk til mín miskunnin þín. Því heit eg á þig, þú hefur skaptan mig. Eg er þrællinn þinn, þú ert drottinn minn. Guð, heit eg á þig, að þú græðir mig. Minnst þú, mildingur, mín, mest þurfum þín. Ryð þú, röðla gramur, ríklyndur og framur, hölds hverri sorg úr hjartaborg. Gæt þú, mildingur, mín, mest þurfum þín, helzt hverja stund á hölda grund. Send þú, meyjar mögur, málsefnin fögur, öll er hjálp af þér, í hjarta mér. |
Listen, smith of the heavens,
what the poet asks. May softly come unto me thy mercy. So I call on thee, for thou hast created me. I am thy slave, thou art my Lord. God, I call on thee to heal me. Remember me, mild one, (or mild king. This is a pun on the word mildingur). Most we need thee. Drive out, O king of suns, generous and great, human every sorrow from the city of the heart. Watch over me, mild one, Most we need thee, truly every moment in the world of men. send us, son of the virgin, good causes, all aid is from thee, in my heart. |
Sunday, February 22, 2015
Snowy Evening...Frost
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
- Robert Frost
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