Asmegin — Til Rondefolkets Herskab song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Til Rondefolkets Herskab" by Asmegin.
Lyrics
I begsorte Fieldkamre bløde, hvor Myriader af �?ine vil gløde
over kristenblodig Hold forkunn til hin vordende Sod og Sø
Bragt til Rondefolkets Herskab, saa mellem Afaat og Troldskab,
stiller Aases Enbaarne hen om at ægte Trolddrottins fagreste Mø
I utaalelige flærrende Hyl, qvinende Jammer,
hungrende Troldbørn legende ham rammer:
«Flærr ham, bid ham, skiær ham, riv ham,
lav os bryde disse skrøbelige Ribben an!»
Fra Bjergthronen vældig fornemmer
De fortrolige Broses kløgtige Tale:
«Forhenværende Drot nu attraar efter en thi vaares beslaatte �?t at se til
Der er intet Skilnad mellem Trold og Mand,
skal Søn prud bære Hale,
med de Tilsagn skiænkes min Datter
og halve Troldriget i medgift dertil;
Hvad udenfor Rondernes Grænser, sværg De aldrig mere enser,
thi at kræve min Datters Gunst Dagslys væmmelig skal De sky
Blivende Herre over min Flok; Peer, vær Dem selv — nok!
Skiære Dem i �?iet skiævt saa alt Dem gildt tykkes i dunkel Vy"
«Drukken Galmands Snak; at flærre �?iet et Hak,
intet længer begiærende at raa over et Troldpak»
«Min Peer, forsøm mig dog ei, thi før Aaret lier
med Eders daarende Attraa mit Nors Far De bliver»
«Løgn!
Aabne Rondeporten, slipp mig hen ud!
Løgnagtig er Førkiens utaalelige Sut»
I Broses brændende infame Foragt
over Hvad der Peer dog haver sagt,
for tusind hungrende Troldbørn
ham ubønhørlig saa bliver bragt:
«Flærr ham, bid ham, skiær ham, riv ham,
kast hans skrøbelige Skrot inn i Bjergvæg!»
Lyrics translation
In begsorte Fieldkamre soft, where myriads of K?ine will glow
over Christian blood Hold forkunn to that would be soot and Lake
Brought to the Dominion of the Rondefolk, then between Afaat and sorcery,
does Aases Enbaarne set out to marry Trolldrottin's fairest mother
In a loud, loud howl, wailing wailing,
hungry sorcerers playfully hit him:
"Flare him, bite him, cut him, tear him,
make us break these fragile ribs an!»
From the mountain throne very sense
The shrewd speech of the confidants Broses:
"Now the former Drot is looking for a man, for the clothes of the vaares are filled?t to see to
There is no sign between troll and Man,
should son prud wear tail,
with those promises my daughter is skipped
and half the troll in addition to it;
What beyond the boundaries of the Rondes, they never swear again,
for to demand the favor of my daughter they shall shun daylight
Permanent Master of my flock; Peer, be yourself-enough!
Skiarer them in G?in a sleight of hand all those things are made thick in darkness"
"Drunk madman's talk; to flare up gals?one notch,
there is no longer any chance of railing over a witch's pack»
"My Peer, please neglect me, for before the year lies
with your foolish desire my Nors father they will be»
"Lie!
Open the gate, let me out!
Lying is the indestructible pacifier of the Prekiens»
In Broses fiery infamy contempt
over what Peer however Gardens said,
for a thousand hungry trolls
him inexorably so being brought:
"Flare him, bite him, cut him, tear him,
throw his fragile scrap inn in Mountain Wall!»