Artist: Svartsot
Song title: Kilden - I Marker og I Lunde
ISRC: HUA631400195
Music: Cris J. S. Frederiksen
Lyrics: James H. Atkin, translated by Cris J. S. Frederiksen
Album: Vældet
Year: 2015
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English translation:
Kilden - I Marker og i Lunde
(The Spring - In Fields and in Groves)
Come, fair maid, and plough with me
And merry was the farmer
For I must sew my seed today
In fields and in groves
The ice and snow had melted, the long awaited thaw
And Spring breathed warmly, so Winter had to die
Once again the good folk could enjoy the earth’s fruits
And toiled in the fields from dawn to evening red
Thither lived a farmer, a foul and sinful man
A rich man was he - he owned much land
There was a girl on the farm, a beauty beyond compare
And just as beautiful as she was, so pious was she
Come, fair maid, and plough with me
And wily was the farmer
For I must sew my seed today
In fields and in groves
Come; strip your young body for me
And lustful was the farmer
For I must sew my seed today
In fields and in groves
Uninterrupted, she did her chores, from early morn until dark-fall
And when the day was over, she hid herself in the barn’s hayloft
Uninterrupted he watched everything the girl did
And dreamt of what he’d do, if only she were a wretched whore
“Come with me, my fair maid, spring green is the shade of the grass
The first furrow must be ploughed now; the seed must enter the earth’s womb
The weather is so mild now, for the sun crowns the blue heavens
You have no need for robes, the wind is no longer raw
You are so fine, that I have seen
And you could be my queen, although I am your lord
No-one needs to know what has happened
I know a secret place where we can be”
“I know you have stared at me; that I have seen
I am so young, and God is my lord
My virtue is dear to me, I will not be led astray
I would rather die than lose my honour
To you!”
His longing was awoken; he would not be denied
He threw her to the ground and entered her whilst she flailed
His wrath was awoken; he took her whilst she screamed
She could not stop his thrusting, his wild game
”Calm down, you mare, take it like the bitch you are
I free you of the bonds of your piety’s paltry glow
I’ll take you when I want, as I own you
Your God cannot hear you, little he respects you”
She still wouldn’t give up; she struggled with all her might
She tore at his skin whilst she was deprived of her virginity
She scratched at his eyes, hit his jaw sharply
He did not notice that she struck him - it made him resolute
When he finally stopped and his lust was cool again
He tried in vain to assuage her heartache
The girl cried with bitter words, and whilst she shook
The farmer grabbed her thin neck and crushed her skull
There she lay abandoned, shattered and dead
From beneath her body a well sprang fourth
The years went by and an elder tree took root
It showed the way to the spring, which streamed from its foot
He ploughed and he sewed
And lustful was the farmer
He hurt the young maid
In fields and in groves
There remained her pious spirit
And lustful was the farmer
So life itself may be saved
In fields and in groves
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