@TheMilkMan8008

7 months ago

Part of folklore that is often overlooked are the nursery rhymes and poems. They are not always associated with folklore itself or even be that old, but they paint a picture of the minds of people or how life was/is seen. My mother would sing Sofðu unga ástin mín to me as a kid. It is over a century old and still sung today. It's a lullaby from a play about a mother on the run with her outlaw husband. She sings to her child and throws her off a cliff because she fears they are about to be captured. The lyrics are: Sofðu unga ástin mín. Úti regnið grætur. Mamma geymir gullin þín, gamla leggi og völuskrín. Við skulum ekki vaka um dimmar nætur. Það er margt sem myrkrið veit, minn er hugur þungur. Oft ég svarta sandinn leit svíða grænan engireit. Í jöklinum hljóða dauðadjúpar sprungur. Sofðu lengi, sofðu rótt, seint mun best að vakna. Mæðan kenna mun þér fljótt, meðan hallar degi skjótt, að mennirnir elska, missa, gráta og sakna. It's considered and ranked one of our best lullabies, and it does sound nice. English lyrics are: Sleep, my young darling, Outside the rain is weeping. Mommy keeps watch over your gold, old bones, and a little treasure chest. Let us not stay awake through dim nights. There is much that darkness knows, My mind is heavy. Often I have saw black sand Scorching the green meadows. In the glacier cracks are rumbling deep as death Sleep for a long time, sleep quietly, It's best to wake up late. Hardship will teach you soon, as the day quickly decays, That the men love, lose, cry, and mourn. Another one I've never heard, but know of is called Bíum Bíum Bambaló. Its lyrics are: Bíum bíum bambaló, Bambaló og dillidillidó Vini mínum vagga ég í ró En úti biður andlit á glugga Þegar fjöllin fimbulhá fylla brjóst þitt heitri þrá, Leika skal ég langspil á Það mun þinn hugan hugga Bíum bíum bambaló, Bambaló og dillidillidó Vini mínum vagga ég í ró En úti biður andlit á glugga Þegar veður geisa grimm, Grúfir yfir hríðin dimm, Kveiki ég á kertum fimm, Burt flæmi skammdegisskugga This translation is more difficult, but it roughly translates to: Bíum bíum bambaló Bambaló og dillidillidó(gibberish noises) My little friend I lull to rest but outside, a face looms at the window When the mighty mountains fill your chest with burning desire, I will play the langspil and soothe your mind Bíum bíum bambaló Bambaló og dillidillidó My little friend I lull to rest but outside, a face looms at the window When the cruel storms rage and the dark blizzard crouches above, I shall light five candles and drive away the twilight shadows away The song Móðir Mín Í Kví Kví is more unsettling, though. The lyrics are: Móðir mín í kví, kví kvíddu ekki því, því ég skal ljá þér duluna mína duluna mína að dansa í, ég skal ljá þér duluna mína duluna mína að dansa í This translates to: Mother of mine in the (sheep) pen, pen You don't need to worry for, for You can wear these rags of mine rags of mine to dance in You can wear these rags of mine rags of mine to dance in Acording to history and folklore there are times when mothers weren‘t able to afford to care for their newborns as they already had enough children, then they would leave the babies alone out in the lava fields or forests where they would eventually die. It is said that the babies after death would turn into a ghost known as Útburður. Legend also says if a woman became pregnant out of wedlock, it was punishable with severe consequences. So the story behind that little song is that a mother was pregnant out of wedlock, so she set up to abandon the child in the forest to die of exposure in the dark woods. She wrapped the creature in rags and left it to the elements. This practice was not that uncommon in the past as we can see recurrently in many fairytales. Some years later while the mother was milking the ewes she sourly complained aloud of not having fine clothes to attend a popular Vivivaki" festival" and then she heard the spectral voice of a child humming precisely this song in a ghostly voice. Upon hearing this the woman quickly went insane as she remembered her crime and thought the child's ghost had returned to curse her since útburður are gangári ghosts meaning they can follow their victims but unlike the other ghosts they can actually curse a whole family for generations to come. There are so many different types of ghosts in Icelandic folklore. More about the practice and myth, though, mothers would expose their newborn children, leaving them where they will not be found, they turn into a ghost known as útburður. When they are seen, their appearance resembles that of a bird, such as a raven. They raise themselves up on one knee and one hand and flutter about. Their colour depends on the colour of the rag in which they were wrapped. Those who see an útburður should not hesitate to follow it, as it will eventually flee to its mother. They howl intensely during bad weather, but rarely speak. An exception to this is the tale of this song where the útburður visiting its mother in a sheepfold and recites this. Sometimes, the lyrics in the story are told as: My mother, in the fold of sheep, Do not worry, do not weep, I shall lend you my blood-red rag For you to wear, for you to wear

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