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Säf, säf, susa

Säf, säf, susa,

Våg, våg, slå,

I sägen mig hvar Ingalill

den unga månde gå?

Hon skrek som en vingskjuten and,

när hon sjönk i sjön,

Det var när sista vår stod grön.

De voro henne gramse vid Östanålid,

Det tog hon sig så illa vid.

De voro henne gramse för gods och gull

Och för hennes unga kärleks skull.

De stucko en ögonsten med tagg,

De kastade smuts i en liljas dagg.

Så sjungen, sjungen sorgsång,

I sorgsna vågor små,

Säf, säf, susa,

Våg, våg, slå!

Reed, reed rustle

Reed, reed, rustle,

Wave, wave, play,

You tell me where Ingalill,

The young one, may go?

She screamed like a wingbroken duck,

when she sank in the lake,

It was, when the last Spring was green.

They spent their wrath on her at Östanlid.

For which she felt ill at ease.

They spent their wrath on her for goods and for gold

And for the sake of her young love.

They stuck a gemstone with a thorn,

They threw dirt in the dew of a lily.

So sing, sing a mournful song,

Ye sorrowful little waves,

Reed, reed, rustle,

Wave, wave, play!

English Translation Maria Forsström

The dreamer of dreams / Si drömmaren kommer där

The dreamer of dreams comes there

With head bowed down and thoughtful air.

On lonely paths he delights to walk

that take him away from us and our talk.

For him the Sun bows down, in his dreams,

and stars and moon — the dreams blasphemes.

He is our father's dearest son

come, let us slay him, come

A song to Carin from King Erik in the prison / En visa till Karin ur fängelset

Mete me not with measures,

guage me not with tools.

A fool I'm grown,

a fool among fools.

Vast and beautiful realms

and a people sincere

made me great as king,

I was emperors' peer.

A wreck is my kingdom

and shattered my throne,

in the dark, cruel prison

for my crimes I atone.

Friends I had and kinsmen

who defended my lands;

the blood of friends and kinsmen

now sullies my hands.

For my crown and my honour

my people fought well;

in reward for their faith

they in misery dwell.

Daughters of my people,

beautiful and chaste,

I sent from my castle

ravished and disgraced.

Last I reached for thee

to be my latest cheer

sacking life of spring

to give the dying year.

Many bitter tears o'er me

thou hast spilt,

mete me not with measures,

forgive me my guilt.

Translation: Albert Björck

King Erik's song to Carin

(When she had been dancing before him.) / En visa till Karin när hon hade dansat

Of noble flowers will I bind

a wreath around my loved one's hair;

a wreath of memory's roses twined

for thee in older days to wear.

And with my hands I will it sling

around my loved one's head so dear;

around thy gray hairs shall it cling

in times when I'm no longer here.

So lithe and graceful does she glide

my well beloved, but is not gay

— so in my wreath a thorn does hide

and wounds, brings sorrow and dismay.

A blood-drop falls from thorn in wreath,

on my beloved's head a stain

— so is in all I give beneath

the gift a curse; my wreath brings pain.

Translation: Albert Björck