Serina is home.
Peace in heart, peace in mind.
We shall be together for three weeks.
The greatest gift.
I've chosen a lullaby for today.
Not any lullaby.
It was written by a man, Per Sivle, who lost his Mom at the age of 2 1/2. He would cherish the memory of the first song he heard all his life.
Later this very song has been sung by most cradles in Norway.
My Grandmom sung it to her children, my Mom sung it to me, and I sung it over and over again to my daughter.
Den fyrste song
Lars Søraas words: Per Sivle
| Den fyrste song eg høyra fekk, var mor sin song ved vogga, dei mjuke ord til hjarta gjekk, dei kunne gråten stogga. Dei sulla meg så underleg, så stilt og mjukt te sova, dei synte meg ein fager veg opp frå vår vesle stova. Den vegen ser eg enno tidt når eg får auga kvila, der stend ein engel, smiler blidt, som berre ei kan smila. Og når eg sliten trøytnar av i strid mot alt som veilar, eg høyrer stilt frå mor si grav den song som all ting heilar. |
7 comments:
It is still December 13 in my part of the world ... but I do remember celebrating St. Lucia day years ago with a Swedish friend. She arrived at my door before sunrise with her two children. The girl was dressed and had a holly/candle wreath upon her head. They shared the saffron buns and I made hot coffee. We had a very lovely visit not to be forgotten. Just tonight I am watching and recording a public tv show showing different Christmas celebrations in Europe. I was excited to watch the one filmed in Norway. So far, I've 'traveled' to England, Norway, France ... a few more stops are waiting to be viewed. It was nice to see how the communities in Europe still celebrate Christmas. Here in the U.S. we're nearly banned from having any public displays unless they are generic and only mention the word "holiday" instead of Christmas. Since 'holiday' is a form of Holy Day, I snicker when those in power denounce all things Christmas in favor for the word holiday. Our government has turned into Scrooge.
Lovely. I suppose the first Christmas carol I heard was Silent Night...maybe in German from my father, although he was fighting in the war until I was 3, but that one sticks in my head. He told lots of Christmas stories he father had brought from Germany. I never met his father, my grandfather.
Dear Mrs. Mac,
I am always so bewildered when the Americans tell about all the laws forbidding religious celebrations.
My heart cries.
All your freedoms, freedom of speech, of belief etc should mean a real freedom, eh?
The American constitution is the role-model of amongst other that of Norway, and yet we practice so differently.
Well, we now see that things are changing for the worse here too. The minorities are ruling the majority.
Wouldn't the right thing to do be, let everyone practice their own religion, the Christians included?
Santa, he's not forbidden. He is short for Saint..
The master who he serves is not the business class, but the Holy Jesus.
Well, we are all guilty of being lukewarm, myself first and foremost.
Your story about celebrating St. Lucia shows how important the little things are.
Let's put all our efforts in making this Christmas a HOLY DAY.
Dear Sioux Sue,
See, how important the little things are. The songs, the love behind the songs.
Oh, no, we are not all forlorn as long as we hold the traditions of our ancestors alive.
And that much we all can do.
Be sower of the good seed.
God has said his words shall not return empty.
Yours Felisol
i love the picture you chose! i will have to pass along the lullaby to the young moms in my circle ...
hugs and blessings sent your way!
A very melodious song.
Maybe Mary sang a lullabye like this for infant Jesus.
So happy Serina is home with you all.
Dear Saija,
this lullaby is also written with tears of a great author who's misfortune is was to loose his mother at a very early age.
Her song for him lingered on and has become a National treasure.
I can try and look for the English text.
Sure some Norwegian/American has tried to translate.
Dear Amrita,
the melody suits thee song perfectly.
That's probably why it has been so popular for four generations.
The two men singing are both from around this neighborhood. They have made their own brilliant stuff through their carrier.
The guitar player died two years ago.
He maybe was the most gifted and the hardest tormented.
From Felisol
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