Michelle Birkballe — Skipper Klements Morgensang song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Skipper Klements Morgensang" by Michelle Birkballe.
Lyrics
Skærm jeres hus med grav og planke
Hvæs jeres leer snittende blanke
Frygt ikke Rantzaus sorte hær
Silke skal vige for vadmelsklæ´r
Nu skal vi sejre i grevens fejde /
Mennesker bytter de ud for penge
Porten til frihed de låse og stænge
Piner og binder med arv og gæld
Jorden, som havde de skabt den selv
Nu skal vi sejre i grevens fejde /
Bagved de riges glitrende hjelme
Skjuler sig bange, skælvende skælme
Djævelen selv har dem givet til pynt
Rustninge, skjolde, jord og mønt
Nu skal vi sejre i grevens fejde /
Rigdom, si´r de, er for de rige
Bibelen har noget andet at sige
Fattig på jorden vandred guds søn
Hented' just ikke hos dem sin løn
Nu skal vi sejre i grevens fejde /
Kirkens sorte skadesværme
Skal sig for pigernes latter beskærme
Spraglede herremandshaner på stand
Møde nu skal den danske mand
Nu skal vi sejre i grevens fejde /
Hanen har galet trende gange
Stå nu kun fast, for vi er de mange
Lad ikke fremtiden sige om os
Rigdommen knægted os uden at slås
Nu skal vi sejre i grevens fejde /
Lyrics translation
Cover your house with grave and plank
Hiss your scythe cutting blanks
Fear not Rantzau's Black Army
Silk must give way to homespun clothing
Now we shall prevail in the count's feud /
People do they trade for money
The gate to freedom the locks and the slack
Torments and binds with inheritance and debt
The earth, as if they had created it themselves
Now we shall prevail in the count's feud /
Behind the glittering helmets of the rich
Hiding scared, trembling trembling
The devil himself has them given for decoration
Rust rings, shields, Earth and coin
Now we shall prevail in the count's feud /
Wealth, sir de, is for the rich
The Bible has something else to say
Poor on Earth walked the son of God
Just did not get his wages from them
Now we shall prevail in the count's feud /
Black damage swarms of the church
Should say for the laughter of the girls crop
Mottled men's cocks on stand
Meeting now the Danish man
Now we shall prevail in the count's feud /
The cock has crowed three times
Only stand firm, for we are the many
Do not let the future say about us
Wealth knewed us without fighting
Now we shall prevail in the count's feud /