NSAA – Norwegian Singers Association of America Norwegian Singers Association of America

We Want a Nation for Ourselves

We want for ourselves a nation that is saved and free,
(we) must not take its freedom for granted.
We want for ourselves a nation that is mine and yours,
and this our nation is called Norway.
And if we do not have this land yet,
then we shall win it, you and I.
We want for ourselves a nation that is mine and yours,
and this our nation is called Norway.

(Per Sivle wrote this in 1894 as a battle-poem for the campaign by the
Venstre party for the universal right to vote. Sinding composed the music
and it was first performed in 1897 in Christiania. It was much used during
the years leading up to the dissolution of the Union with Sweden in 1905.)

Beautiful Cloud
C.A.Brolén

Beautiful cloud, which processes across the wide blue (sky),
Where shall you, I ask, where shall you get peace and rest?
Beautiful cloud, which processes across the wide blue (sky).
Where? Where? Where shall you find peace and rest?

Beautiful mirage of the air, shall you entirely perish?
Shall nothing of our beauty remain?
Beautiful mirage, shall nothing, nothing, nothing of your beauty remain?
Beautiful cloud, beautiful cloud.

Sons of Norway
Christian Blom
The Previous National Anthem of Norway

1. Sons of Norway, the ancient kingdom, sing to the harps the festive sounds!
Manly and full of solemnity let the music rise!
Our song consecrates the ancestral land.
Memories of ancestors gloriously come back every time we mention our ancestral roots.
Hearts swelling with pride and glowing cheeks hail the beloved, the sacred name.

2. Ancient past, you disappeared but your holy flame blazes still in the Northman’s heart.
One is by family and by power the same. One stands for freedom and the memory of its fame.
And whenever he chants Norway’s glory, his heart swells with pride and desire.
Even the most lovely places of the South are nothing to him in contrast with Norway’s snow covered coast.

Edvard Grieg

Solo: The Norwegian people will travel, they will bring power to others!
The battle’s sword casts a reflection. The people’s labor increases the glory.
When we came from the Jorsal parade, all the song’s beacon lights were lit
and our youth stood around the fire and it illuminated far on the land.

I. Norrønafolket (The Norwegian People of the Viking Period)
Choir: The Norwegian people will travel; they will bring power to others!
The battle’s sword casts a reflection. The people’s labor increases the glory.
The people’s work increases the glory.

II. Kongekvadet (The King Ballad)
Choir: Hail to thee, heirs of Harald’s tribe, hail to thee, bold brothers of the king,
one with the beautiful advantage of peace, one with the victor’s crown of battle.
Norway’s past, Norway’s future are joined in the handshake of the two.
Hail to thee, bold brothers of the king. Hail to thee! Hail to thee! Hail to thee! Hail!

Solo: From noble deeds that are not revived (kept alive)
rust is brought on the will of the people;
the glory must be eternally young, the glory must be eternally young.
Only in struggle is it brought forth (born).

Therefore, on dragon-wings again the Norwegian heroes go over the ocean,
over the doubt, toward the great goals (greatness) in the distance.

Norwegian Folktune
arr. Trond Dahlen

Per Fiddler, he had but the one only cow,
He traded his cow for a fiddle right now,
“My good, old, tuneful violin, my violin, my violin!”

Per Fiddler then on with his fidd’ling he kept
The boys kept on dancing, the girls they just wept
“My good, old, tuneful violin, my violin, my violin!”

And if I get as old as the moss on the tree
No swapping of fiddle and cattle for me
“My good, old tuneful violin, my violin, my violin!”

(Translation from the “Sons of Norway Song Book”)

Halfdan Kjerulf

Norway’s oldest Forts and boldest
Are its mountains high
Dismal death there burrows
Deep in rocky furrows.
Beacons shining, Tops defining,
Day and night espy.
And no fighting He is sighting
Put the gun away.
You who went bear hunting
Deck your hut with bunting
Valiant hunstman
Lift your cup to Hills and Liberty.

(English by Torgeir Edland)

Alfred Paulsen

Norway, my Norway, securely asleep,
In winter’s bright halls now reposing.
Your dreams are so pleasant, your slumber so sweet,
When rivers and streamlets are closing,
And no one can rest so serenely in peace.
When songs birds are silent, And even the trees,
In wint’ry garments in wint’ry garments are dozing.

Norway, my Norway! Let springtime appear
With sunshine and warmth for the meadows;
But hear me, oh, hear me: when evening draws near
With coolness and lengthening shadows.
Oh Norway! Then teach me to wither and die,
And grant in your hallowed ground I may lie,
When summer and life are departing.

(Translation by O.T. Arneson)

Niels W. Gade

In the east, the sun rises; it spreads yellow on the clouds.
(It) goes over the sea and the mountain top,
goes over the countryside and the city.
It comes from the beautiful coast, where Paradise lay.
It bring light and life; It brings life and delight to great and small,
to great and small.
And with God’s Sun there goes out from the east a Heavenly ray on the earth;
A glimpse from Paradise Coast, where the Apple of Life grows.

My Beautiful Home
A. P. Berggren

My beautiful home, where the blue wave has hummed the tempo for my cradle;
Mermaids, that loom up out of the Deep, Spring-fresh crown of small islands,
Where it is so cozy to build nests, Where it is so bare of flowers to walk on
As on your motherly soil.

And the mountain’s sons are really a tiny bit closer to heaven,
But the eye sees the teeming stars from (the) plains as readily as from (the) mountains.
Our mountains are heaven-clouded, and our heights are only midgets.
But each and every one has fought in secret (to save).

Midsommer Dance
Maurice Sommerfelt

(There is an English paraphrase of this song.  A more literal translation is provided here by Donald Berg.)

Chorus:
I den lange, klare, skjonne sommernatt,
During the long, clear, beautiful summer night
mens skumringen sig senker over skog og kratt,
while the twilight settles over woods and bushes,
vil vi danse under stjernehimlens glans,
we will dance beneath (the) brilliance of the starry sky
mens spillemannen spiller opp en lystig dans.
while the fiddler plays a lively dance.
Chorus:

Rundt jeg svinger mig med min ven;
Round I swing with my friend;
lett vi svever over grønsvaeret hen,
lightly we float away over the greensward/turf;
om vi traller en munter sang
when we sing a cheerful song
ek koet svarer i fra skog og vang.
the echo replies from the woods and meadow.
Chorus:

Over traer fjernt og naer månen drysser
Over trees distant and near,
ned sitt bleke sølverskjaer.
the moon sheds it pale silver gleam.
Ved Sankt Hans uten stans
on St. Han’s (Day) without stopping,
du og jeg vil tra vår sommerdans.
you and I will step (out) our summer dance.
Chorus:

Vi med dans påvang og med spillog sang
With dancing on the meadow and with playing and singing
vil feire sommernattten lang.
we will celebrate the long summer night.

S. Anker-Gol

Dearest Savior, follow me,
With Your Light eternally,
When the night falls, O Lord, give light,
Light, light at eventide.

When my youthful strength is gone,
When my battle now is won.
Then my prayer is: O Lord give: light,
Light, light at eventide.

When I stand before the throne,
There in everlasting Spring,
Bursts forth then my song of praise: light,
Light, light in Paradise. AMEN

(Translated by Emil Martinson)

Little Stina
C. P. Wahlin

Stina, here you have me. Come, we shall dance a polka.
I still love you! Let us not (stand and) be tardy.
Tra-la-lal-la-lalla
Alas, may I (so enjoyably) become yours?
Tra-la-lal-la-lalla

Yes, I feel you are mine. Let all stop (their running),
We still dance round about; Skip, (just) skip, love’s skip.
Don’t worry yourself about anything.

Little Stina, feel my torment! Little Pelle, we are happy.
Come and see, Who shall advise (him) We are both happy.

Edvard Grieg

Olaf Trygvason went forth across the North Sea
U p toward his new kingdom which did not await him.
As he catches the first sight of land
“What is this wall rising out of the sea?”

And there was Olaf Trygvason
The land appeared quite closed. All of his kingly dreams
Seemed dashed against the cliff
Until a poet spied white domes and spires in the sky.

And Olaf Trygvason thought
He suddenly saw graying old temple walls with white snow arches.
In his youthful faith, he longed sorely to stand inside.

The land opened; spring was alive.
With the rush of waterfalls, storms, and the ocean’s roar around them.
Strange was the hum of the forest
Organ and bells could be heard.
The king looked around; the king was moved.

Here is the foundation,
The temple arch defies hell.
The spirit trembles, the heart is full.
Here only the greatest is acclaimed!
Would that my faith were as strong as the foundation
Rising to nature’s greatest height
Filled by Him who unites.

We all join in Olaf’s prayer. Now as then and always
The spirit trembles, the heart is full.
Here only the greatest is acclaimed!
Would that my faith were as strong as the foundation
Rising pure as the glacier’s dome.
The spirit rising to nature’s greatest height,
Filled by Him who unites. Filled by Him!

Norwegian Folktune

I laid me down to rest, and the hour it was late,
I nothing knew of pain or sorrow;
Then word to me came from my sweet-heart so dear,
To hasten to her ere the morrow —
I have no one ever lov’d so dearly.

(Translation taken from “The Sons of Norway Song Book”)

Sture Odd Woldoen & Alf Wold

Out there stands a fiery-red flame wheel,
Flames on the ocean toward land.
It teems with birds from their hiding places in the cliffs,
And beneath, the ocean keeps moving alongside the shore.
It sighs in their wings; now they sink slowly;
Behold, the birds on the cliff like snow.
Midnight Sun, Midnight Sun. The bird-mountain sleeps,
A vision. Midnight Sun.

Here I will bow my knee before the Lord,
And thank Him for eternal light.
And if I were like a bird, I would fly away from the place,
Out over the intensely golden ocean
Toward the reddening sun, which ascends again from it,
In the space filled by God’s peace.
Midnight Sun. Midnight Sun.

(Translation by Donald Berg)

In God’s Outdoors
F. A. Reissiger

Here, yes here (it) is good to be; Here we (can) take it easy,
And sing to the Creator’s glory; Glorified, praised shall He be;
A mighty song our ability, our ability shall bear,
A mighty song our ability, our ability shall bear

Up to Heaven’s home, to Heaven’s home, to Heaven’s home.
Look! The rich handiwork of the Creator around us all
Bears witness that God is mighty, His power we softly beseech.

Our song with the forest’s mild rustling, with the bird’s song and the waterfall’s roar
We join in mighty chorus, And sing loudly; Our God is great.

Hey! You darting sea-gull, Oh hey! Let me accompany you.
Carry me on white wings over your sea-blue way.
Carry me out there where (the) floor is chest-wide blue waves
(and the) ceiling is the high sky, the arch there above.
Carry me out there where the sea’s high-minded,
proud song goes through the emptiness of the cathedral’s dome like (the) sound of a single tone.
There I will ride the billows (and) sail on the shiny sea, splashed by the very salty sea spray (and) die out
there alone. Oh hey, you darting sea-gull, oh hey, oh hey!
Let me accompany you. Carry me on white wings over your sea-blue way.
Carry me out there on the sea! In ocean spray!

Oscar Borg

God Bless our native land,
Each vale and Mountain grand.
Each fell and fjord, each fell and fjord,
He let it ever stand,
Protect it with His Hand,
Protect each maid and man,
Forevermore, forevermore.

It is our dearest lot,
It is our dearest thought,
Our trust and thrift.
Great men they were and brave,
Who unto us it gave
A home for us to have,
A freedom gift.

(English by Torgeir Edland)

Ivar Aasen

Old Norway is our own ancestral land.
There are seas that totally surround the shoreline
There are bays, peninsulas, islands, thousands of fjords,
Mountains, where the snow rarely melts, and
Valleys, where the enormous waterfalls fall.

Hard are the long winters, yet green our spruce forests stand.
Where the foliage on the hills shoots forth,
Beautiful colors reach our neighborhood.
Great days and short nights pass gently around the bright earth,
Coast and fjord, and mountain farms bask in sunlight from south to north.

The children of those who built the land are still on the foundations,
The farms stand on old locales built and repaired as the farmer desires.
Accustomed to hardship more than to playfulness,
The people’s song plays on land and sea.
May the people sit with dignity and enjoy safety and peace.
Old Norway is our own ancestral land.

(Translations from “Sangerfest Program”)