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Tilbage Lyrics

❤️ Click here: Jeg elsker kun dig original

Away from here you must take me: A ripe berry has no peace. Mennesker har brug for vand. Gud styrke dig, hvor du i verden gaar, I verden garr, Gud glæde dig, hvis du For hans fodskammel staar, For hans fodskammel staar. Jeg vil gi' dig alt det dejligste, der findes og gætte dine ønsker dagen lang, ingen hænder er så ødsle som en kvindes, der elsker en for allerførste gang.

Til et nyt liv. A second edition of the album was released entitled Forever 2. Der eg gjerne er gjest, Der mitt hjarta er fest Med dei finaste, finaste band. Spø'r jeg nu mig selv, hvorfor det just blev dig, aner jeg det ikke, og jeg husker heller ej, hvad mit liv var værd, før du kom, nu, nu er det kun som om: Jeg har elsket dig så længe jeg kan mindes, og sværmet for din stemmes dybe klang.

Kvinden siger ”jeg elsker dig” til sin lille hvalp – Se så hvalpens hjertevarmende reaktion. - Skogen med si gröne Huva Fostrar mangein raudleitt Son. Og Knoppen brast Og Elven sprang, Den fjærne Landsbys Larm og Lyd Indtil os i vor Løvsal klang, Hvor vi sad gemt i salig Fryd.

They are meant to convey the meanings of the songs; they are not singable. Translating the rhythm and beauty of poetry from one language to another is rarely successful. Translating it so that it can be sung is almost impossible; I have not attempted to do it. I hope, however, that my translations will help to make these songs more accessible to an English-speaking audience, and that they will help English-speaking singers with the interpretation of these songs. Jump to a song: These are three of Norway's best known folksongs. Kjærringa mæ staven, Høgt oppi Hakkedalen, Otte potter rømme, Fire mærker smør, Saa kjinna Kari, Ola hadde før, Kjærringa mæ staven. Kjærringa mæ kjeppen hoppa over bekken, vil du koke kaffi, eg skal bæra vann. Woman with a stick Hops over the brook. If you'll cook coffee, I'll carry water. If you'll be the wife, I'll be the husband. Woman with a stick. The second verse was taught to me by my mother, and I have not seen it written anywhere. That is the way of folk music. It gets passed down from generation to generation, and sometimes, it changes... Paal sine høno paa haugan utslepte, Hønnun saa lett over haugan sprang. Paul kunne væl paa høno fornema, Ræven va ute mæ rumpa saa lang. Kluk, kluk, kluk, sa' høna paa haugom, Kluk, kluk, kluk, sa' høna paa haugom, Paal han sprang og rengde mæ augom; Naa tor'e inkje koma heim aat'n mor! Paul let his hens out on the hillside, The hens ran lightly over the hill. Paul could tell from the hens' actions, That the fox was out with his tail so long. Cluck, cluck, cluck, said the hens on the hillside, Cluck, cluck, cluck, said the hens on the hillside, Paul, he ran, and rolled his eyes; Now I don't dare go home to mother! He plays that instrument until the fiddle laughs, the boys dance, and the girls cry! SÆTERJENTENS SØNDAG The Sæter Girl's Sunday beautifully expresses the loneliness of the girls who were sent, alone, up to the high summer pastures to care for the cows and the sheep. Paa solen jeg ser, Det lider alt frem, Snart ar det ved hømessetide. O, den, som en stund Fik ønske sig hjem Blandt folk, Som paa kirkevej skride! Naar solskiven stiger lidt, saa den staar der midt Over skaret i kammen, Da ved jeg, i dalen Klokkerne garr, Da ringer fra taarnet Det sammen. Det nytter ej stort At tage sin bog Og synge i hejen sin salme; Mit loft er for højt, Og her er det dog, Som tonerne blegne of falme. O den, som i dag Fik blande sin røst Med hans og de øvriges stemme! Gud give, at snart Det lakked mod høst, Gud give, jeg atter var hjemme! I look at the sun, It reveals all, Soon it will be time for High Mass. Oh, one, who for a moment Wishes oneself home Among people, Who are going to church! When the sun has risen a bit So it stands right there Over the gap in the crest of the mountain, Then I know, in the valley Church bells are ringing, Then rings from the tower The same. It is of no use To take one's book And sing in the mountains one's psalms; My ceiling is too high, And here it is thus That the tones grow pale and fade. God grant, that soon It draws near to autumn, God grant, I once more will be home! EFTER EN SOMMERFUGL Chasing a Butterfly The butterfly almost gets caught, but you hear it fly away at the end. Sommerfuglen min, med vingerne fine, Røde og brune og røde og blaa, Finder du da ingen af blomsterne dine? Sommerfuglen min, med vingerne fine, Sæt dig nu der paa det svaiende straa. Sommerfuglen min, Jeg vil ikke skræmme dig, Vil bare naa dig, Vil bare faa dig Vil bare gjemme dig! Der havde jeg dig næsten, Og saa fløi du din vei. Sommerfuglen min, med vingerne fine, Røde og brune og røde og blaa, Jeg vil ikke skræmme dig, Vil bare naa dig, Vil bare faa dig Vil bare gjemme dig! Butterfly mine, with pretty wings, Red and brown and red and blue, Can't you find any of your flowers? Butterfly mine, with pretty wings, Sit yourself down on the swaying straw, Butterfly mine, I don't want to frighten you, Only want to reach you, Only want to get you, Only want to treasure you! There, I almost had you, And then you flew on your way. Butterfly mine, with pretty wings, Red and brown and red and blue, I don't want to frighten you, Only want to reach you, Only want to get you, Only want to treasure you! Sanktehansormen sin lykte har tænnt, Sitter og lyser i krat, Sommerfugl tat sine duggsokker paa, Lagt sig til hvile i klokken, den blaa, Drømmer saa deilig om solen, Drømmer om duft av fiolen. Sommerfugl tat sine duggsokker paa, Lagt sig til hvile i klokken, den blaa, Drømmer saa deilig om solen, Drømmer, drømmer, om duft av fiolen. Butterfly has put dew slippers on And gone to sleep in the bluebells, Dreaming deliciously of the sun, Dreaming of the violet's perfume. Butterfly has put dew slippers on And gone to sleep in the bluebells, Dreaming deliciously of the sun, Dreaming, dreaming, of the violet's perfume. Å eg veit meg eit land Langt der oppe mot nord, Med ei lysande strand Mellom høgfjell og fjord. Der eg gjerne er gjest, Der mitt hjarta er fest Med dei finaste, finaste band. Med den vaknande vår Vert min saknad så sår, Så mest gråta, Mest gråta eg kan. Oh, I know of a land Far away in the north, With a shimmering strand Between high mountains and fjords. There I long to be a guest, There my heart is fastened With the finest, finest bands. With the awakening spring My longing becomes so sore, That almost cry, Almost cry I can. Composer: Adolf Thomsen Poet: Elias Blix This song tells of the memories of a lost love that come while walking by the Nid River which runs through the city of Trondheim. Den gamle bybro er lykkens portal, Sammen vi seiler i stjernekorall. Nidelven, stille og vakker du er, Her hvor jeg går og drømmer. Dit mine tanker og drømmer vil gå, Alltid du er meg så nær. Dreaming of him that I loved so dear, Now it is only memories. The old city bridge is happiness' portal, Together we sail under the stars' corral. Nid River still and beautiful you are, Here where I go and dream. There my thoughts and my dreams will go, Always, to me, you are near. Composer: Chris Christensen Poet: Oscar Hoddø This patriotic song is in three parts. The first section speaks of the beauty of Norway. The middle section asks for God to bless Norway, and the third part praises the strength of Norway's people. Hurra for mit folk, For mit kraftige folk! Hurrah, for my people, For my mighty people! Composer: Alfred Paulsen Poet: John Paulsen This folksong tells the story of a girl who lives on a small farm with her hard-working parents, her worthless little brother, and a variety of animals. Jeg heter Anne Knutsdatter, Kari er min mor, Og Truls han er min bror. Vi har en liden plads, Hvor ingen skulde tro, At nogen kunde bo. Og pladsen heter Uren, Luren, Himmelturen, Steinröis, Steinröis, Sveltihel! Ja pladsen ligger höit, Höit oppe i en ur, Tett under fjellets mur, Og det er just så vidt, At vi på simpel vis Kan for' to kyr og gris. Og kyra heter Dagros, Fagros, gamle Fagros, Grisen heter Giss, Giss, Giss! Om somren er det moro Og gå og plukke bær I munn og neverkopp. På stuetaket vokser To unge heggetrær, Som gjyten tygger op. Og gjyten heter Snyggen, Styggen, Lurveryggen, Höna heter Tipp, Tipp, Tipp! Og far han er en kramkar, Han strever flittig nok og reiser vidt omkring; Og mor hun passer huset, Jeg spinner på min rokk, Men Truls gjör ingen ting. Men höna heter Tipp, Tipp, Tipp, Og grisen heter Giss, Giss, Giss, Og kyra heter Dagros, og gamle, gamle Fagros, Og gjyten heter Snyggen; Og plassen heter Uren, Luren, Himmelturen, Steinröis, Steinröis, Sveltihel! My name is Anne Knut's daughter, Kari is my mother, And Truls, he is my brother. We have a little place, Where no one would believe, That anyone could live. And the place is named Rockslope, Trickster, Heavenlytrip, Rockfall, Rockfall, Starve to Death! Yes, the place lies high, High up in a rock-strewn slope, Right under the mountain's wall, And it is barely, That we, in a simple way Can feed two: cow and pig. And the cow is named Dagros, Fagros, old Fagros, The pig is named Giss, Giss, Giss! During summer it is fun To go and pick berries In your mouth and hand-cup. On the cabin roof grow Two young trees, That the goat eats up. And the goat is named Snyggen, Styggen, Lurveryggen, The hen is named Tipp, Tipp, Tipp! And father is a peddler, Who works hard enough and travels all around; And mother takes care of the house, I spin on my spinning wheel, But Truls does nothing. But the hen is named Tipp, Tipp, Tipp, And the pig is named Giss, Giss, Giss, And the cow is named Dagros, and old, old Fagros, And the goat is named Snyggen; And the place is called Rockslope, Trickster, Heavenlytrip, Rockfall, Rockfall, Starve to Death! Folksong, arranged by: Eyvind Alnæs I learned this folksong at a Girl Scout camp in Norway when I was a girl. I translated it many years later, when I was a Girl Scout Leader in Baldwin, New York. Since the translation is on the CD, I won't bother with it here. The version I know is from Lista in Sørlandet, the southern part of Norway, as it was sung in the middle of the 20th century. Vi skal ikkje sova burt sumarnatta; Ho er for ljos til det. Då skal vi vandra i saman ute Under dei lauvtunge tre, Under dei lauvtunge tre. Vi skal ikkje sova frå høysåteangen Og grashoppespelet i eng, Men vandra i lag under Bleikblå himlen Til fuglane lyfter veng. Til fuglane lyfter veng. Og kjenne at vi er i slekt med jorda, Med vinden og kvite sky, Og vita at vi skal vera i saman Like til morgongry. We shall not sleep away the summer night; She is too light for that. Then shall we wander together out Under the leaf-heavy trees, Under the leaf-heavy trees. We shall not sleep away from the hay-sown field And the grasshopper's play in the meadow, But wander together under Pale blue heavens 'Til the birds lift their wings. And feel that we are kin with the earth, With the wind and white clouds, And know that we shall be together Until the morning's dawn. Until the morning's dawn. Composer: Geirr Tveitt Poet: Aslaug Låstad Lygre Dick and I learned this beautiful song from a dear friend of ours, Rev. Lars Erik Espeland, when he was a Seamen's Minister in the Norwegian Seamen's Church in Brooklyn, New York. This song achingly shows the despair of unrequited love. Nu Tak for Alt Ifra vi var smaa Og legte sammen I Skog og Lage. Jeg tænkte, Legen den skulde gaa Op i de G raanende Dage. Jeg tænkte, Legen den skulde gaa Ud fra de Løvede lyse Birke Did frem hvor Solbakkehuse staa Og til den Rødmalte Kirke. Jeg sad og vented Saa mangen Kvæld Og saa did bort under Granehejen; Men skygge gjorde Det mørke Fjæld, Og du, du fandt Ikke Vejen. Now thank you for all Since when we were small And played together In the woods and made-believe. I thought the playing would have gone on Up in the Greening days. I thought The playing would go on Out from the Leafy, light birches Forward to where the Solbakke house stands And to the Red-painted church. I sat and waited So many nights And looked out there under The pine hill; But shadows made The mountain dark, And you, you didn't find The way. Composer: Halfdan Kjerulf Poet: Bj. I have reproduced it here as it is in the music. Not surprisingly, in the United States, I have found this to be one of Edvard Grieg's most popular songs. No ser eg atter slike Fjell og Dalar, Som deim eg i min förste Ungdom såg, Og sama Vind den heite Panna svalar; Og Gullet ligg pa Snjo, som för det låg. Det er eit Barnemål, som til meg taler, Og gjer meg tankefull, men endå fjåg. Med Ungdomsminne er den Tala blandad; Det ströymer på meg, so eg knapt kan anda. Ja, Livet ströymer på meg, som det ströymde, Når under Snjo eg såg det gröne Strå. Eg dröymer no, som för eg altid dröymde, Når slike Fjell eg såg i Lufti blå. Eg glöymer Dagsens Strid, som för eg glöymde, Når eg mot Kveld af Sol eit Glimt fekk sjå. Eg finner vel eit Hus, som vil meg hysa, Når Soli heim til Notti vil meg lysa. Now I see the same mountains and valleys, As those I, in my young childhood, saw, And the same wind cools my heated brow, And gold lies on the snow, as before it lay. There is a childlike voice, which speaks to me, And makes me thoughtful, but still full of joy. With childhood memories is this speech blended; It streams over me, so I can barely understand. Yes, life streams over me, as it streamed, When under the snow I saw the green straw. I dream now, as once I always dreamed, When such mountains I saw in the blue air. I forget the day's stress, as once I forgot it, When I, towards night, a glimmer of sun did see. I will well find a house, that will shelter me, As the sun, home for the night, will light my way. Composer: Edvard Grieg Poet: A. I would appreciate it if anyone could enlighten me on which is the original spelling that Vinje used. I have three editions of this song, and the spelling differs in all three of them! One is in Riksmaal, so I never use it. Vinje wrote it in Landsmaal for a reason! The two that are in Landsmaal have the same words, but they are spelled differently. I would appreciate your input. I am always interested in learning more about the Norwegian language, and in passing information on to other Norwegian-Americans. Den store, hvide flok vi se, Som tusen berge ful av sne, Med skov omkring av palmesving, For tronen. Det er den helteskare som Av hin den store trengsel kom Og har seg todd i Lammets blod Til himlens helligdom. Der holder de nå kirkegang Med uopphørlig jubelklang I høye kor hvor Gud han bor Blant alle englers sang. The great, white host we see, As a thousand mountains full of snow, With a forest around of waving palms, Before the throne. It is the multitude that Has through the great tribulation come And washed themselves in the Lamb's blood For heaven's holiness. There they now go to church With unheard-of jubilation In the high choir where God abides Amidst all of the angels' songs. Norwegian Folksong, arranged by: Edvard Grieg, adapted by: Richard Feingold Poet: Hans Adolph Brorson This beautiful melody is a Norwegian folksong. The arrangement of it on the CD is an adaptation that my husband made of Edvard Grieg's arrangement for soprano soloist and male choir. I sang that arrangement many times with the Færder Singers of Brooklyn, New York. This song is very dear to my heart; I sang it at both my father's and my mother's funerals. This is an allegory. Tyteberet uppå Tuva Voks ut af ei liten Von. Skogen med si gröne Huva Fostrar mangein raudleitt Son. Her ifrå du må meg taka: Mogjet Ber er utan Ro. Mal meg sundt, at du kan smaka Svaledrykken af mit Blod! Svaledrykken af mit Blod! Mognar du, so vil du beda Just den sama Bön, som eg. Mogjen Mann det mest må gleda, Burt for Folk at gjeva seg, Burt for Folk at gjeva seg, Burt for Folk at gjeva seg. Forest, with its green cap, Fosters many a red-cheeked son. Away from here you must take me: A ripe berry has no peace. Crush me, so you can taste The swallow drink of my blood! The swallow drink of my blood! If you ripen, you will pray Just the same prayer, as I. The ripe man is the most glad To give himself for others, To give himself for others, To give himself for others. Vinje I can no longer sing this song without thinking of John Paolillo. He was an usher in my church, and a New York City Deputy Fire Chief. They went up over 70 stories, rescuing people. Finally, he sent his men down with survivors, saying that he would go up to the next floor, just in case there was anyone there still alive. His men made it out; he did not. He left a widow and two young children. God bless his memory. If he awaits her in heaven, then she will meet him there. Kanske vil der gaa Baade vinter og vaar, Baade vinter og vaar Og næster sommer med, Og det hele aar, Og det hele aar, Men engang vil du komme, Det ved jeg vist, Det ved jeg vist, Og jeg skal nok vente, For det lovte jeg sidst, Det lovte jeg sidst. Gud styrke dig, hvor du i verden gaar, I verden garr, Gud glæde dig, hvis du For hans fodskammel staar, For hans fodskammel staar. Her skal jeg vente Til du kommer igjen, Du kommer igjen; Og venter du hist oppe, Vi træffes der, min ven, Vi træffes der, min ven. Perhaps there will go Both winter and spring, Both winter and spring, And next summer also, And the whole year, And the whole year, But onetime you will come, I know this for sure, I know this for sure, And I shall surely wait, For I promised that last, I promised that last. God strengthen you, Where you go in the world, You go in the world, God give you joy if you Before his footstool stand, Before his footstool stand. Here shall I wait Until you come again, You come again; And if you wait above, We'll meet there again, my friend, We'll meet there again, my friend. Composer: Edvard Grieg Poet: Henrik Ibsen The poem, set to music by Norwegian composer, Edvard Grieg, is said to have been written by a Dane, Hans Christian Andersen, to express his love for the Swedish soprano, Jenny Lind. It is the perfect pan-Scandinavian song! Of course, another story is that Edvard and his fiancé, Nina, were close friends with H. Andersen, and Edvard gave Nina this song, set to his friend's poem, as an engagement present. Believe what you like, it is a wonderful song! Min tankes tanke Ene du er vorden, Du er mit hjertes første kjærlighed, Jeg elsker dig, Som ingen her paa jorden, Jeg elsker dig, Jeg elsker dig, Jeg elsker dig i tid og evighed, eg elsker dig i tid og evighed, My thought of thoughts Are only of you, You are my heart's first love, I love you, As none other on Earth, I love you, I love you, I love you through time and eternity, I love you through time and eternity. Composer: Edvard Grieg Poet: Hans Christian Andersen This gorgeous song tells of passionate love in the woods where a dream becomes a reality. The poetry, the melody, and the accompaniment are all wonderful. This is, perhaps, my favorite song. Jeg saa en Gang i Drømmesyn En dejlig Mø saa fin og skær; Vi sad i Skovens lyse Bryn Imellem Vaarens unge Trær. Og Knoppen brast Og Elven sprang, Den fjærne Landsbys Larm og Lyd Indtil os i vor Løvsal klang, Hvor vi sad gemt i salig Fryd. Men meget mer end Drømmesyn Blev Livet selv en dejlig Dag. Det var i Skovens lyse Bryn Og under Vaarens lette Tag. Og Elven sprang, Og Knoppen brast, Og alt var fjærnt, Kun du var nær; Og ved min Barm Jeg holdt dig fast Nu slipper jeg dig aldrig mer! O Mødestund i Skovens Bryn, Med Vaarens lyse, lette Tag! Der blev min Dag et Drømmesyn, Der blev min Drøm en dejlig Dag. I saw once in a vision A beautiful maid, so fine and dear; We sat in the forest's light glade Among Spring's young trees. And the buds burst And the river ran, The distant village's noises Came into our leafy bower, Where we sat hidden in blessed peace. But much more than a vision Life itself became a wonderful day. It was in the forest's light glade And under Spring's airy canopy. And the river ran, And the buds burst, And all was wonderful For you were near; And with my embrace I held you fast Now I will never let you go! Oh, moment of meeting in the forest's glade, With Spring's light, airy canopy! There my day became a vision, There my dream became a wonderful day. Composer: Edvard Grieg Poet: Friedrich Martin von Bodenstedt.

Danseorkestret - Kom Tilbage Nu
And feel that we are kin with the earth, With the wind and white clouds, And know that we shall be together For the morning's dawn. Lavet af et grædende barn. They are meant to convey the meanings of the songs; they are not singable. Nu skal det lære. Nu er jeg helt alene Gеare sшvnlшs rundt Jeg fшler mig sе ene Mit hjerte gшare ondt Sket er sket Og jeg fortryder nu Gjort er gjort Jeg mе ha' hende igen De sol hun jeg elsker kun dig original De ting hun si'are Jeg elsker ingen andre pi'are Kom tilbage til mig Jeg elsker kun dig Kom tilbage nu Kom tilbage til mig Jeg elsker kun dig Kom tilbage nu, kom tilbage nu Vi ku' prшve igen, rejse langt langt bort Еh sig du vil Sig du vil gi' mig Gi' mig en servile til For jeg er helt alene Gеare sшvnlшs rundt Jeg fшler mig sе ene Mit hjerte gшare ondt Sket er sket Men jeg fortryder nu Gjort er gjort Jeg mе ha' hende igen De ting hun gшare De ting hun si'are Jeg elsker ingen andre pi'are Kom tilbage til mig Jeg elsker kun dig Kom tilbage nu, kom tilbage nu Kom tilbage til mig Jeg kan kun elske med dig Kom tilbage nu, kom tilbage nu Kom tilbage til mig Jeg elsker kun dig Kom tilbage nu, Kom tilbage nu Kom tilbage til mig Jeg elsker kun dig Kom tilbage nu, kom tilbage nu Kom tilbage til mig Jeg elsker kun dig Kom tilbage nu, kom tilbage nu Kom tilbage nu Kom tilbage Kom tilbage nu Kom tilbage til mig Jeg elsker jeg elsker kun dig original dig Kom tilbage nu. Gud give, at snart Det lakked mod høst, Gud give, jeg atter var hjemme. Oh, I gusto of a land Far away in the north, With a shimmering strand Between high mountains and fjords. Men en lille smule chokolade nu og da skader ikke. Jeg glipper med øjnene.