Danish Diction In Art Song, Vol. 3 by Edition·S

DANISH DICTION IN ART SONG

VOL. 3

Eva Hess Thaysen Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Christen Stubbe Teglbjærg

The Royal Danish Academy of Music

Rosenørns Allé 22 1970 Frederiksberg C

Denmark

+45 72267226

info@dkdm.dk www.dkdm.dk

ISBN 978-87-93750-95-1

Ver004 2024-02-22

PREFACE

When Danes talk about Danish vocal music , we often refer to den danske sangskat or the treasure of Danish songs as a secluded gem, which cannot be performed by foreigners because of the difficulty of the Danish language. However, the days when a classical singer could get by mastering just three or four languages are over. The repertoire today is vast and varied, and it is expected that it is performed in the original language. Thus, a singer must be able to perform in multiple languages, and why should Danish not be one of them?

During my years as an opera singer at The Danish National Opera, the tradition of singing everything in Danish changed to everything being performed in the original language. We had wonderful coaches, and with hard work we were relatively successful in achieving this, but it was not until I began teaching that I discovered the International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA) as a tool for singers. This discovery ignited the idea that the Danish art song repertoire should be described and transcribed according to the norms set by Nico Castel and William Leyerle, and in 2015 I received a grant from the Danish Ministry of Culture to undertake this task. Of course, I could not do this alone, so phonetician Ruben Schachtenhaufen was on board from the very beginning, and a couple of years later we were joined by pianist Christen Stubbe Teglbjærg.

The difference between the sung and the spoken word is prominent in most languages when it comes to classical singing, and this is also the case in Danish. The version of the IPA used in the following is the result of a long process of developing a notation which reflects this pronunciation. We have had numerous discussions with students and faculty along the way, but when it comes to deciding which pronunciation is the “right” one, it cannot be avoided that my personal opinion shines through. It is my experience that a somewhat conservative pronunciation results in a more intelligible text and a sound that meets the demands for a beautiful timbre, and since the lyrics in this publication are for the most part romantic bordering on the archaic, a conservative pronunciation is nonetheless recommendable.

Actually, the lyrics offer quite a challenge to the translator, because a great number of the words used are no longer part of the language. Old dictionaries like Moths and Kalhars have come in handy, but they have not always been able to offer a meaning. However, whereas the lyric translations in this anthology give

the reader an idea of one meaning without trying to recreate the poetry, the word-to-word translations might reveal another. Translating word-to-word is not an easy task and sometimes results in strange sentences, but the singer needs to know the meaning of each and every word in order to give it emotional value and vocal color. In fact, I am convinced that native Danish singers could benefit from studying the footnotes in this publication, and maybe even be inspired to treat their language with the same detail as they do when they sing in other languages.

However, the primary goal of this publication is to introduce a selection of Danish art songs to nonnative singers, and to guide them in the direction of an idiomatic and intelligible pronunciation of the Danish language. In support of this goal you will find that the IPA is written directly into the score under the Danish text. This is practically never done in other publications, where the IPA will appear on a separate page, but based on our experience, the performers appreciate having the transcription ready at hand. The website, which you find through the QR code on the cover page, offers further instructions such as recordings with slow readings of the texts as well as special diction practice tracks. Included are also artistic readings of the texts done by actors which can inspire to a personal phrasing of the music, videos of the songs with students and faculty from The Royal Danish Academy of Music recorded by our Tonmeister students, and finally you will find an article discussing in detail the development of the notation used here.

The choice of repertoire has been a challenge since there is so much wonderful music to choose from. However, from the very beginning, I wanted to avoid problems with legal rights, which is why this publication ends with the composer Carl Nielsen (1865-1931). Other parameters have been to comply with different voice types and to include both single songs and song cycles. Finally, a focus on the role of the piano part as a collaborating voice and not “only” as an accompaniment is the reason why you find very few strophic songs with the same piano part for each verse. This has of course left out a vast number of songs meant for communal singing, but that repertoire, which experienced a veritable resurrection during Covid, deserves its own publication. The plan with this project is to continue with an anthology of songs from Rued Langgaard to the present. By that time, we hope to have solved the legal challenges.

I have many people to thank for their contribution to this project. First of all, my fellow musketeers: Ruben Schachtenhaufen, whose phonetic expertise has been crucial to the project, and Christen Stubbe Teglbjærg, whose role in the project has grown immensely over the years. Our collaboration means the world to me. A warm thank you also goes to Søren Schausser for his wonderful portraits of the composers and to Thomas Darelius for proof-playing the scores. Furthermore, I would like to thank Kirsten Buhl Møller for taking the first tentative steps with me, The Royal Danish Academy of Music for hosting the project and believing in it, the Danish Ministry of Culture for granting me

the initial funding through the Artistic Research Fund (KUV-puljen), the AEC for including the work in the INTERMUSIC project, allowing us to try out the material in a digital learning environment, Marianne Løkke Jakobsen for including the publication in the MUSIPÆD project, and The A.P. Møller Foundation for granting the funds for it. A huge thank you to all the students involved over the years and to my wonderful colleagues in the voice department. Finally, a shout-out to Edition-S for initiating their research edition with this publication.

”Drømde mik en Drøm i Nat”

”I dreamt a Dream last Night”

The oldest known secular song in the Nordic countries, writen around 1300. It is writen in Old East Norse and is included in Codex Runicus, a transcript of Scanian Law where it forms a ﬁnal note. Like the law itself, it is writen in runes, and the tune is writen on two simple staves in an early form of musical notation.

Eva Hess Thaysen

GUIDE TO THE IPA NOTATION

The phonetic transcriptions in this anthology follow the International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA). The reader is assumed to be familiar with the basic principles of IPA. For reference, see Handbook of the International Phonetic Association (IPA 1999).

PHONETIC SYMBOLS IN THE TRANSCRIPTIONS

For ease of reading, we use broad phonetic transcription. This means that the phonetic symbols are roughly comparable to the use in other languages. But it also means that the reader should be aware of certain conventions that are explained once and for al l below rather than explicitly included in the transcriptions of the songs. The phonetic symbols represent the different phonemes that the user should be aware of in order to differentiate the meanings of Danish word s. The conventions here are optimized to reflect our recommended pronunciation in Danish art song which often differs from the pronunciation in standard spoken Danish. For further details and discussion of the transcription conventions as well as audio pre sentations of the sounds, see danishdictioninartsong.dk.

CONSONANTS

Symbol

Phonetic description

p Voiceless (aspirated) bilabial plosive, [p(ʰ )]

t Voiceless (aspirated) alveolar plosive, [t( ʰ )]

k Voiceless (aspirated) velar plosive, [k( ʰ )]

b Voiceless unaspirated bilabial plosive, [ b̥ ]

d Voiceless unaspirated alveolar plosive, [ d̥ ]

g Voiceless unaspirated velar plosive, [ g ]

m Bilabial nasal

n Alveolar nasal

ŋ Velar nasal

f Labiodental fricative

v Voiced labiodental fricative

ð Voiced dental - alveolar non - sibilant fricative

s Voiceless alveolar fricative

ɕ Voiceless alveolopalatal fricative

ʁ Voiced uvular friative

h Voiceless glottal fricative

j Palatal approximant

l Alveolar lateral approximant

Equivalents

English p ark, to p

English t op, ca t

English c all, par k

English b old

English d ive

English g oal

English m oon

English n ame

English so ng

English f ather

English v ine

English fa th er

English s ong

English sh arp

German r ot

English h at

English y ou

British English l ove

VOWELS

Front, unrounded Front, rounded Back, rounded

Close - mid

Mid

Open - mid

In addition, / / are used in diphthongs and unstressed syllables. These vowels correspond to / ~œ, i~e, a~ , u~o/ re s pectively.

DIACRITICS

Primary stress

Secondary stress

Long vowel

Velar glide on vowel

Glottal stop

CONVENTIONS FOR THE CONSONANTS

All consonants have slightly rounded lips before rounded vowels, and spread lips before unrounded vowels. /p t k/ are aspirated and /t/ is slightly affricated, [p ʰ t ʰ k ʰ ], in most contexts. Before weak vowels / / and other unstressed vowels, /p t k/ are unaspirated or only slightly aspirated. They are never aspirated after syllable initial /s/, e.g. /skæl/ skal (shall). This pattern of aspiration is similar to other Germanic languages, such as German and English.

/ b d g/ are always voiceless and unaspirated, [ b̥ d̥ g ] (= unaspirated [p t k]). The symbols are only used in initial position in order to differentiate between the aspirated /p t k/ and unaspirated /b d g/. /t d n s l/ are apical, i.e. they are pronounced with the tip of the tongue raised towards the alveolar ridge. The phonemes /t s/ may be laminal if preferred, i.e. they may be pronounced with the lamina raised, and the tip of the tongue lowered.

/ ʁ / is pronounced with the back of the tongue quickly raised towards the uvula. There may or may not be a brief contact between the tongue and uvula. Strong affrication should be avoided. It is never trilled.

/ ʁ j l/ may be devoiced and slightly fricated, [ ç ], after aspirated /p t k/, e.g. /p i s / [p ʰ i s ] prise (praise).

/ ɕ / is somewhat similar to / /, a phoneme which is common in many other languages, including English ( sh ip ), German ( sch ein ), and French ( ch ance ). The main difference between the two is that the tip of the tongue is lowered in / /. /v ð / should have little or no frication.

CONVENTIONS FOR THE VOWELS

Danish features 13 distinct vowels in stressed syllables as shown in the table above. The vowels can be ordered in five degrees of aperture, from the close /i y u/ to the open /a/. As a consequence of having five degrees of aperture, / / is used for a vowel halfway between /i/ and /a/. Most languages have a vowel like that; typically corresponding to the letter e . The vowel /e/ in Danish can then be described as halfway between /i/ and / /, and the vowel /æ/ can be described as halfway between / / and /a/. The vowels /y ø œ / can be described similar to /i e æ/ respectively, except that the lips are rounded. Similarly, / / is halfway between /u/ and /a/, typically corresponding to the letter o in man y languages. The vowel /o/ is halfway between /u/ and / /, and / / is halfway between / / and /a/.

In addition to the 13 distinct vowels, we use / / to indicate weak vowels. These are used rather than the similar / ~œ, i~e, a~ , u~o/ to indicate unstressed vowels with a more relaxed pronunciation taking color from surrounding sounds. The symbols / / are also used in diphthongs.

Note that in most languages /e/ indicates a mid vowel (similar to Danish / /). In Danish /e/ indicates a closemid vowel between /i/ and / /, and /æ/ indicates a vowel between / / and /a/.

Vowels can be short and long. Short vowels are typically slightly more open compared to the corresponding long vowel.

All vowels are slightly more open after / /, i.e. / / is slightly more open in /k ft / kræfter (‘strengths’) than in / ft / efter (‘after’).

Vowels in initial position are typically marked with / /, indicating that the vocal cords are closed before the vowel for a weak glottal stop. For instance, /i aft n / i aften (tonight) is pronounced with a short glottal stop, breaking up the two vowels.

The symbol / / is used on vowels to indicate a so called soft g , a very slight velar glide, i.e. /a / indicates a vowel starting with [a] and gliding towards a velar unrounded vowel [ ]. This is somewhat similar to the diphthong [au], except the lips should be kept unrounded. This sound is a subtle reminiscent of /g/. The indication of a velar glide is maintained in this book in order to reflect the recommended style in art song. Most s ingers, even native Danish singers, find this velar glide somewhat unnatural to pronounce, as it does not occur in modern Danish. If preferred, it can be substituted with other sounds for a slightly less conservative pronunciation style:

After front vowels, the / / can be omitted or substituted with / /, e.g. /dæ / dag (day) may be pronounced /dæ / or /dæ /.

After back vowels and /a/, the / / can be substituted with / /, e.g. /sp / sprog (language) may be pronounced /sp /.

After /u/, the / / can be omitted, e.g. /fu l/ fugl (bird) may be pronounced /fu l/.

SUPRASEGMENTAL FEATURES

In spoken Danish, some syllables are modified by a laryngeal accent (stød ) that manifests as a glottal stop, creaky voice or similar. This feature is omitted in the style of art song and therefore not included in the transcriptions.

Vowel length is distinctive. In art song, short vowels implicate a slight lengthening of the following consonant in intervocalic position. This is reflected in the transcriptions by doubling the consonant, e.g. /skul - l / skulle (should).

In our transcriptions, stress is marked on syllables that should be stressed in the context, rather than the lexical stress. Also, note that monosyllabic words are unstressed unless they are explicitly marked as stressed in the transcriptions.

PETER ERASMUS

LANGE-MÜLLER

1850-1926

– the chronically ill man behind some of Denmark’s most frequently heard melodies

He created the fantastic melody of the bells of the Copenhagen Town Hall clock with just four notes, and some of the finest songs in Danish music.

P.E. Lange-Müller suffered from poor health all his life. Migraines, in particular, incapacitated him for long periods of time. The doctors regarded an eye disease as the cause of the pain – and they even tried a treatment as ancient as trepanning on him to relieve it! He initially applied to study political science, and then for an apprenticeship as a gardener, with a dream of a peaceful life.

Nonetheless, the Academy received an application from him in 1871 – the intense interest in music of everyone in his childhood home had finally won out! LangeMüller’s debut three years later, with songs based on Sulamith and Salomon by B.S. Ingemann was truly an “opus 1” to be reckoned with. And the burgeoning music to the 1887 fairy tale play Der var engang (‘Once Upon a Time’) by the poet and Skagen painter Holger Drachmann brought him his popular breakthrough. The piece is particularly strong in the Serenade with its moods of French classicism, and in the final chorus Midsommervise (‘Midsummer Song’) – which all Danes now attempt to sing on Midsummer’s Eve each year.

Lange-Müller’s early style remains a ‘mild’ Romanticism. All of his melodies have clear lines and tastefully rounded phrases. Subsequently, however, he began to move more in the direction of avantgarde trends: His songs became either airier, with a wave to Impressionism, or alternatively, spicier. The development culminated in the opera Vikingeblod (‘Viking Blood’) from 1900 with its echoes of Richard Wagner’s musical dramas.

His late style was perceived by his contemporaries as ‘old-fashioned ’, and was given an increasingly indulgent reception by the opinion-makers of the day. In the next generation, a colleague like Rued Langgaard (1893-1952) would compose with something of the same pathos, and would hear the same kind of criticism.

The increasingly apathetic P.E. Lange-Müller ended up beloved by the people and forgotten by the cultural elite. The so-called ‘watchman song’ of the Copenhagen town hall clock from 1905, which chimes at noon, 6:00 pm and midnight, became his swan song. He spent his final years without artistic activity at the country house of Sophienberg, near Rungsted – an heirloom from his parents-in-law.

Bernhard Severin Ingemann (1789-1862) SULAMITH OG SALOMON No.1

SULAMITHS SANG I VINHAVEN

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Peter E. Lange-Müller (1850-1926) Opus 1 No.1

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

b b b b b b

SULAMITHS SANG I VINHAVEN

SULAMITH’S SONG IN THE VINEYARD

Bernhard Severin Ingemann 1839 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Jeg har hørt paa Gihon hvad Hyrder sang, I have heard from Gihon what the shepherds sang, fra Fyrstens deilige Haar flød from the prince’s lovely hair flowed Salvelsens Strømme. streams of anointment. Han nedsteg fra Bjerget, He descended from the mountain og høi var den Salvedes Gang and the anointed’s gait was exalted Ret aldrig viger han meer truly, he shall never ever depart fra Sulamiths Drømme. from Sulamith’s dreams.

Under Bjerget stod jeg ved Klippens Fod;

Below the mountain I stood by the foot of the rock; De førte Bathsebas Søn

Under Bjerget stod jeg ved Klippens Fod; Below the mountain I stood by the foot of the rock; De førte Bathsebas Søn

They led the son of Bathseba til Sangkongens Sæde. to the seat of the legendary king. Blandt min Moders Børn I stood among my mother’s children mellem Festsangens Piger jeg stod; between the girls singing the festive song; Min Tunges Røst var dog stum,

But my voice was as mute som Sulamiths Glæde. as Sulamith’s joy.

Jeg stod fjernt og skjulte min røde Kind:

I stood far away and hid my blushing cheek: Hos Klippen traf mig Behind the rock a glance et Glimt af Salomons Øie. from Solomon’s eye struck me. Med det ene Glimt

Jeg stod fjernt og skjulte min røde Kind: I stood far away and hid my blushing cheek: Hos Klippen traf mig Behind the rock a glance et Glimt af Salomons Øie. from Solomon’s eye struck me.

Med det ene Glimt

With that one glance fløi et Solhav i Sjælen mig ind: a solar flood fell into my soul: Nu dandser Sulamiths Fod paa Rankernes Høie. Now Sulamith’s foot dances on the hills of the vines.

Jeg har hørt paa Gihon hvad Hyrder sang, I have heard from Gihon what the shepherds sang,

fra Fyrstens deilige Haar flød Salvelsens Strømme. from the prince’s lovely hair flowed the anointments’ streams.

Jeg har hørt paa Gihon hvad Hyrder sang, I have heard from Gihon what the shepherds sang,

fra Fyrstens deilige Haar flød Salvelsens Strømme. from the prince’s lovely hair flowed the anointments’ streams.

ˈneð-steːˠ fʁa ˈbjæ

Han nedsteg fra Bjerget og høi var den Salvedes Gang He descended from the mountain and elevated was the anointed’s gait

ret aldrig viger han meer fra Sulamiths Drømme. well never again departs he ever from Sulamith’s dreams.

Under Bjerget stod jeg ved Klippens Fod;

Han nedsteg fra Bjerget og høi var den Salvedes Gang He descended from the mountain and elevated was the anointed’s gait

Below the mountain stood I by the rock’s foot

Under Bjerget stod jeg ved Klippens Fod;

ret aldrig viger han meer fra Sulamiths Drømme. well never again departs he ever from Sulamith’s dreams.

De førte Bathsebas Søn til Sagnkongens Sæde. They lead Bathseba’s son to the legendary king’s seat.

Below the mountain stood I by the rock’s foot di ˈføːɐ-tə ˈbæt-se-bæs ˈsœn tel

blænt min ˈmoː-ðɐs ˈbɶɐn mɛl-lə

Blandt min Moders Børn mellem Festsangens Piger jeg stod;

Among my mother’s children between the festive song’s girls I stood;

De førte Bathsebas Søn til Sagnkongens Sæde. They lead Bathseba’s son to the legendary king’s seat.

blænt min ˈmoː-ðɐs ˈbɶɐn mɛl-ləm ˈfɛst-saŋ-

min ˈtɔŋ-ŋəs ˈʁœst va dɒʊ ˈstɔm sɒm ˈsuː-læ-mits ˈglɛː-ðə

min Tunges Røst var dog stum som Sulamiths Glæde.

Blandt min Moders Børn mellem Festsangens Piger jeg stod;

Among my mother’s children between the festive song’s girls I stood;

min ˈtɔŋ-ŋəs ˈʁœst va dɒʊ ˈstɔm sɒm ˈsuː-læ-mits ˈgl

My tongue’s voice was however mute as Sulamith’s joy. jaɪ stoːð ˈfjæɐnt ˀɒʊ ˈskjuːl-tə min ˈʁœː-ðə ˈken

ðə min Tunges Røst var dog stum som Sulamiths Glæde.

My tongue’s voice was however mute as Sulamith’s joy.

Jeg stod fjernt og skjulte min røde Kind: I stood far away and hid my crimson cheek: hɔs ˈklep-pən ˈtʁaf maɪ ˀet ˈglemt ˀæ ˈsæː-lo-mɔns ˈˀɶ:-jə

Hos Klippen traf mig et Glimt af Salomons Øie.

ken Jeg stod fjernt og skjulte min røde Kind: I stood far away and hid my crimson cheek:

At the rock hit me a glance from Solomon’s eye. mɛð de ˈˀeː-nə ˈglemt flɶɪ ˀet ˈsoːl-haʊ ˀi

Med det ene Glimt fløi et Solhav i Sjælen mig ind:

Hos Klippen traf mig et Glimt af Salomons Øie.

At the rock hit me a glance from Solomon’s eye. mɛð de ˈˀe

Med det ene Glimt fløi et Solhav i Sjælen mig ind:

With that one glance flew a solar flood into the soul me in: (into my soul) nu ˈdæn-sɐ ˈsu

With that one glance flew a solar flood into the soul me in: (into my soul)

Nu dandser Sulamiths Fod paa Rankernes Høie. Now dances Sulamith’s foot on the vines’ hills. jaɪ ha ˈhøːɐt pɔ ˈgiː-ɒn væð ˈhyɐ

Nu dandser Sulamiths Fod paa Rankernes Høie.

min Tunges Røst var dog stum som Sulamiths Glæde.

My tongue’s voice was however mute as Sulamith’s joy.

Jeg stod fjernt og skjulte min røde Kind:

I stood far away and hid my crimson cheek:

klep-pən

Hos Klippen traf mig et Glimt af Salomons Øie.

At the rock hit me a glance from Solomon’s eye.

Med det ene Glimt fløi et Solhav i Sjælen mig ind:

With that one glance flew a solar flood into the soul me in: (into my soul)

dæn-s

Nu dandser Sulamiths Fod paa Rankernes Høie.

Now dances Sulamith’s foot on the vines’ hills.

Vilhelm Bergsøe (1835-1911) TRE DIGTE No.2

AAKANDE

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Peter E. Lange-Müller (1850-1926)

Opus 4 No.2

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

AAKANDE

WATERLILY

Vilhelm Bergsøe 1873 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Du, min stille Lotusblomst,

You, my quiet Lotusflower, fra Skovsøens Rand, from the shore of the forest lake, Du Svane, som paa Bølgen Dig vugger, you swan, who rocks on the wave, Siig, synker du om Natten say, do you sink at night til Drømmenes Land? into the realm of dreams?

Er det derfor, at Din Krone du lukker?

Er det derfor, at Din Krone du lukker? Is that the reason why you close your corolla?

Is that the reason why you close your corolla?

Er det derfor, Du sænker Dig

Is that the reason why you lower yourself i Skovdybets Væld, into the domain of the deep forest Naar Aftenstjernen over Dig blinker? when the evening star twinkles above you?

Ak, aaben mig Dit Bæger

O, open for me your chalice blot en eneste Kvæld, just for one single evening,

Ak, aaben mig Dit Bæger O, open for me your chalice blot en eneste Kvæld, just for one single evening, Det er Mere end Drømmen, som Dig vinker. it is more than the dream, which beckons you.

Det er Mere end Drømmen, som Dig vinker. it is more than the dream, which beckons you.

ˈdu min ˈstel-lə ˈloː-tus-ˌblɒmst fʁa ˈskɒʊ-søː-əns ˈʁan

Du, min stille Lotusblomst, fra Skovsøens Rand, You, my quiet Lotusflower, from the forest lake’s shore,

du ˈsvæː-nə sɒm pɔ ˈbøl-jən daɪ ˈ vɔk-kɐ

du Svane, som paa Bølgen dig vugger, you swan, who on the wave yourself rock, ˈsiːˠ ˈsøŋ-kɐ ˈdu ˀɒm ˈnæt-tən tel ˈdʁɶm-mə-nəs ˈlæn

Siig, synker du om Natten til Drømmenes Land? say, sink you during the night into the dreams’ realm?

ˀæɐ de ˈdɛːɐ-fɒ ˀæt din ˈkʁoː-nə du ˈlɔk-kɐ

Er det derfor, at din Krone du lukker? Is it for that reason that your corolla you close?

ˀæɐ de ˈdɛːɐ-fɒ du ˈsɛŋ-kɐ daɪ ˀi ˈskɒʊ-dyː-bəts ˈ vɛl

Er det derfor, du sænker Dig i Skovdybets Væld, Is it for that reason (that) you lower yourself into the deep forest’s dominion,

nɒ ˈˀaf-tən-ˌstjæɐ-nən ˈˀɒː-vɐ daɪ ˈbleŋ-kɐ naar Aftenstjernen over dig blinker? when the evening star over you twinkle?

ˀak ˈˀɔː-bən maɪ dit ˈbɛː-ɣɐ ˈblɒt ˀen ˈˀeː-nə-stə ˈkvɛl

Ak, aaben mig Dit Bæger blot en eneste Kvæld, O, open for me your goblet just for one single evening,

de ˀæɐ ˈmeː-ʁə ˀɛn ˈdʁɶm-mən sɒm daɪ ˈveŋ-kɐ det er Mere end Drømmen, som Dig vinker. it is more than the dream, which you beckons (which beckons you).

Original

Sophus Bauditz (1850-1915)

I MESTER SEBALDS HAVE No.1

GJENBOENS FØRSTE VISE

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Peter E. Lange-Müller (1850-1926)

Opus 13 No.1

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

Sophus Bauditz 1880 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Vinden den flyver i Verden ud,

The wind flies out into the world, bærer saa mangt et lønligt Bud carrying many secret messages vidt over Dal, over Lide. far beyond valley and hillside.

Flyv da, min Sang, for Vinden kun hen,

Fly my song on the wings of the wind tabes den, har jeg vel fler igjen, if it is lost I have several more, fler end jeg selv tør vide. more than I dare admit.

Mød mig her, min Hjertenskjær,

Meet me here, my dear, naar Duggen falder i Dale. when the dew falls in the valley.

Lyt til mit dæmpede Strengespil,

Listen to my soft music, tag mine Sange, hvem der vil, take my songs whosoever wants them, de er med Vinden i Følge. they are carried by the wind.

Ordene kan vel Alle forstaa, Everyone may well understand the words, En dog kun hører mit Hjerte slaa but only one person hears my heart beat dybt under Sangens Bølge. deep underneath the wave of the song. Mød mig her, min Hjertenskjær,

Meet me here, my dear, naar Duggen falder i Dale. When the dew falls in the valley.

ˈven-nən dɛn ˈflyː-vɐ ˀi ˈvæɐ-dən ˈˀuːð Vinden den flyver i Verden ud, The wind it flies into the world out,

ˈbɛː-ʁɐ sɒ ˈmaŋt ˀet ˈlœn-lɪt ˈbuːð bærer saa mangt et lønligt Bud carries so many a secret message

ˈvit ˀɒː-vɐ ˈdæːl ˀɒː-vɐ ˈ

ː-ðə vidt over Dal, over Lide. far beyond valley, beyond hillside.

ˈflyːv dæ miːn ˈsaŋ fɒ

ən kɔn ˈhɛn Flyv da, min Sang, for Vinden kun hen, Fly then, my song, by the wind only born,

ˈtæː-bəs dɛn ˈhaː jaɪ vɛl ˈfleːɐ ˀi-ˈgɛn tabes den, har jeg vel fler igjen, (if) lost it (is), have I certainly more left,

ˈfleːɐ ˀɛn jaɪ ˈsɛlv tɶɐ ˈviː-ðə fler end jeg selv tør vide. more than I myself dare know.

ˈmøːð maɪ ˈhɛːɐ miːn ˈjæɐ-təns-ˌkɛːɐ Mød mig her, min Hjertenskjær, Meet me here, my dear, nɒː ˈduk-kən ˈfæl-lɐ ˀi ˈdæː-lə naar Duggen falder i Dale. when the dew falls in the valley.

ˈlyt tel mit ˈdɛm-pə-ðə ˈstʁæŋ-ŋəˌspel Lyt til mit dæmpede Strengespil, Listen to my muted harping, ˈtæːˠ miː-nə ˈsaŋ-ŋə ˈ vɛm dæɐ ˈvel tag mine Sange, hvem der vil, take my songs, whosoever it will,

ˈdi ˀæɐ mɛð ˈven-nən ˀi ˈføl-jə de er med Vinden i Følge. they are with the wind in company.

ˈˀoː-ʁə-nə

Mød mig her, min Hjertenskjær,

Meet me here, my dear, nɒː ˈduk-kən ˈfæl-lɐ ˀi ˈdæː-lə naar Duggen falder i Dale. when the dew falls in the valley.

ˈlyt tel mit ˈdɛm-pə-ðə ˈstʁæŋ-ŋəˌspel Lyt til mit dæmpede Strengespil, Listen to my muted harping,

ˈtæːˠ miː-nə ˈsaŋ-ŋə ˈ vɛm dæɐ ˈvel tag mine Sange, hvem der vil, take my songs, whosoever it will,

ˈdi ˀæɐ mɛð ˈven-nən ˀi ˈføl-jə de er med Vinden i Følge. they are with the wind in company.

ˈˀoː-ʁə-nə ˈkæn vɛl ˈˀæl-lə fɒˈstɔː

Ordene kan vel Alle forstaa, The words may well everyone understand,

ˈˀeːn dɒ kɔn ˈhøː-ʁɐ mit ˈjæɐ-tə ˈ

En dog kun hører mit Hjerte slaa one however only hears my heart beat

ˈdypt ˀɔn-nɐ ˈsaŋ-ŋəns ˈbøl-jə dybt under Sangens Bølge. deep underneath the song’s wave.

ˈmøːð maɪ ˈhɛːɐ miːn ˈjæɐ-təns-ˌkɛːɐ Mød mig her, min Hjertenskjær, Meet me here, my dear, nɒ ˈduk-kən ˈfæl-lɐ ˀi ˈdæː-lə naar Duggen falder i Dale. when the dew falls in the valley.

Thor Lange after Aleksey Tolstoy (1851-1915) (1817-1875)

SKUMRING No.3

EN RAND AF DISET HEDE

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Peter E. Lange-Müller (1850-1926)

Opus 20 No.3

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

A FRINGE OF HAZY HEAT EN RAND AF DISET HEDE

Thor Lange efter Alexis Tolstoy 1870 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

En Rand af diset Hede mod Aftenhimlen bæver, A fringe of hazy heat quivers against the evening sky det damper over Søen af Taage myg og lind, a fog, supple and mild, drifts over the lake, og frem af bløde Skygger af bløde Linier svæver and from the soft shadows and contours dit milde Billed for mig your lovely image floats towards me i det milde Maaneskin. in the mild moonlight.

Din friske Mund jeg kjender

I know so well your fresh mouth og dine fine Hænder and your fine hands og Fletningen, and the braid som klapper dig smilende paa Kind, which pats you smiling on the cheek, men blinkende med Guldstøv but blinking with golden dust en ukendt Flamme brænder an unknown flame burns i dine milde Øjne i det milde Maaneskin in your eyes in the mild moonlight.

en ˈʁan

En Rand af diset Hede mod Aftenhimlen bæver, A fringe of hazy heat against the evening sky quivers, de ˈdam-p

det damper over søen af Taage myg og lind, it steams over the lake of fog supple and soft,

og frem af bløde Skygger af bløde Linier svæver and forward from soft shadows from soft lines floats

dit ˈmil-lə ˈbel-ləð

-n

-sken dit milde Billed for mig i det milde Maaneskin. your mild image for me in the mild moonlight.

din ˈfʁɛ-skə ˈmɔn jaɪ

n-n

Din friske Mund jeg kjender og dine fine Hænder

Your fresh mouth I know and your fine hands

ˀɒ ˈflɛt-nɪŋ-ŋən sɒm ˈklap-pɐ daɪ ˈsmiː-lən-nə pɔ ˈken

og Fletningen, som klapper dig smilende paa Kind, and the braid, which pats you smiling on the cheek, mɛn ˈbleŋ-kən-nə mɛð ˈgul-støːv ˀen ˈˀu-kɛnt ˈflam-mə ˈbʁæn-nɐ men blinkende med Guldstøv en ukendt Flamme brænder but blinking with golden dust an unknown flame burns

ˀi ˈdiː-nə ˈmil-lə ˈˀɶɪ-nə ˀi de ˈmil-lə ˈmɔː-nə-sken i dine milde Øjne i det milde Maaneskin. in your mild eyes in the mild moonlight.

Holger Drachmann (1846-1908)

DER VAR ENGANG No.3

SERENADE

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Peter E. Lange-Müller (1850-1926)

Opus 25 No.3

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

Blik, hed, hver v

poco a poco cresc. poco a poco cresc. p

ˈmɛː ˈkæn ˈgiːv giv kan let lət du ˀɔn un du med mɛð ˀaɪ nɐ der ej Nat ˈnæt ˈ vɛl ˈtoː To væl ten tən jə nən nen ge, et ˀet du dit dit du Liv ˈliːv ˈhaː ˈˀɒf Of har den dɛn ˀeŋ fɐ fer in und ˀɔn ŋən mɛð med gen fan ˈfaŋ ˈvil ˈglɛː Glæ Vil ger, ŋɐ jə ðə de, je, som sɒm fɒ din din for

El O res ʁəs v

skɐ sker ver til tel makt daɪ dig magt Daa ˈdɔː ˈsaɪ ˈlœn Løn seg ben bən nɐ nɐ ner ner med mɛð dɛn mɛð i den funk ˈfɔŋ ˈsmɛk ˈhɶɪ Høj smæg len klən tən sæː sa ten de nə nə ləns lens de Span ˈspaŋ ˈlil ˈsɛː sæ Lil ger ŋɐ jə ðə de je, i ˀi sɒm mɛð med som

Holger Drachmann 1887 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Se, Natten er svanger med Vellugt fin;

Look, the night is heavy with fragrance fine, med Virak for dig, med Røgelsen din, with homage to you, with incense thine, med Hyldest i hældende Skaaler: with tribute in tilting bowls. det vælder did op, hvor om Dagen du gik, it gushes forth, where during the day you wandered, hver Længsel, du kued, den blev til Musik, every longing, you subdued, turned into music, formælet med Natten et Liv den undfanger, betrothed to the night it conceives a life, som bæres til Daaben med funklende Spanger1 which is carried to the baptism with glittering jewels i Maanens fortryllende Straaler. in the enchanting rays of the moon.

Se, Natten er svanger med Vellugt fin;

O Kvinde som lukker dit Hjærte til

O woman who shuts your heart for Røgelsens Duft, for Tonernes Spil, to the fragrance of incense, to the sound of music, for Fostret af favnende Drømme: to the figments of embracing dreams: der kommer en Dag, hvor din Tanke bli’r hed, a day will come, when your thought becomes fervent, hvor Øjet i Vildelse sænker sig ned; when the eye in delirium sinks down; da kan du ej vælge, du har ingen Vilje, then you cannot choose, you have no will, for Overmagt segner den smægtende Lilje, to the superior power the languishing lily succumbs,2 som Sivet for Hvirvlernes Strømme. like the willow to the whirling streams.

O Kvinde som lukker dit Hjærte til

Thi Hjærtet er lagt under Kærligheds Lov

For the heart must yield to love’s command, som Akset for Leen, for Øksen en Skov, like the spike to the scythe, and the forest to the ax, som Natten for Solgudens Straaler: like the night to the rays of the sun god: der stirrer imod os fra Døden et Blik, from death a glance stares at us det kan kun besværges ved Livets Musik; it can only be exorcised by the music of life: hengiv under Tonen dit Offer med Glæde, joyfully give your sacrifice with song, din Elsker dig lønner i Højsalens Sæde your lover will reward you with a seat in the hall, med Vin af Lyksaligheds Skaaler! with wine from blissful toasts.

Thi Hjærtet er lagt under Kærligheds Lov

”spanger”: metalspænde

”spanger”: metal buckle

2 the languishing lily succumbs to the superior flower

”spanger”: metal buckle

2 the languishing lily succumbs to the superior flower

seː ˈnæt-tən ˀæɐ ˈsvaŋ-ŋɐ mɛð ˈ vɛl-lɔkt ˈfiːn

Se, Natten er svanger med Vellugt fin; Look, the night is heavy with fragrance fine;

mɛð ˈviː-ʁak fɒ ˈdaɪ mɛð ˈʁœː-ˠəl-sən ˈdiːn med Virak for dig, med Røgelsen din, with homage to you, with incense belonging to you,

mɛð ˈhyl-ləst ˀi ˈhɛl-lən-nə ˈskɔː-lɐ

med Hyldest i hældende Skaaler: with tribute in tilting bowls:

de ˈ vɛl-lɐ dið ˈˀɒp vɒ ˀɒm ˈdæː-ˠən du ˈgik

det vælder did op, hvor om Dagen du gik, it gushes forth there up, where during the day you wandered, vɛːɐ ˈlɛŋ-səl du ˈkuː-əð dɛn ˈbleːv tel mu-ˈsik hver Længsel, du kued, den blev til Musik, every longing, you subdued, it turned into music,

fɒˈmɛː-lət mɛð ˈnæt-tən ˀet ˈliːv dɛn ˀɔn-ˈfaŋ-ŋɐ formælet med Natten et Liv den undfanger, betrothed to the night a life it conceives,

sɒm ˈbɛː-ʁəs tel ˈdɔː-bən mɛð ˈfɔŋ-klən-nə ˈspaŋ-ŋɐ som bæres til Daaben med funklende Spanger which is carried to the baptism with glittering buckles (jewelry)

ˀi ˈmɔː-nəns fɒˈtʁyl-lən-nə ˈstʁɔː-lɐ i Maanens fortryllende Straaler. in the moon’s enchanting rays.

ˀoː ˈkven-nə sɒm ˈlɔk-kɐ dit ˈjæɐ-tə ˈtel O Kvinde som lukker dit Hjærte til O woman who shuts your heart (to)

fɒ ˈʁœː-ˠəl-səns ˈdɔft fɒ ˈtoː-nɐ-nəs ˈspel for Røgelsens Duft, for Tonernes Spil, to the incense’s fragrance, to the sounds’ play, fɒ ˈfɒ-stʁət ˀæ ˈfaʊ-nən-nə ˈdʁɶm-mə for Fostret af favnende Drømme: to the figments of embracing dreams:

der kommer en Dag, hvor din Tanke bli'r hed, There will come a day, when your thought will become hot,

hvor Øjet i Vildelse sænker sig ned; when the eye in a delirium descends itself (down);

der kommer en Dag,

hed, There will come a day, when your thought will become hot,

vɒ ˈˀɶ:-jət ˀi ˈvil-ləl-sə ˈsɛŋ-kɐ saɪ ˈneːð hvor Øjet i Vildelse sænker sig ned; when the eye in a delirium descends itself (down);

dæ ˈkæn du ˀaɪ ˈ vɛl-jə du ˈhaː ˀeŋ-ŋən ˈvil-jə da kan du ej vælge. Du har ingen Vilje, Then can you not choose. You have no will,

fɒ ˈˀɒː-vɐ-makt ˈsaɪ-nɐ dɛn ˈsmɛk-tən-nə ˈlil-jə for Overmagt segner den smægtende Lilje, to the superior power succumbs the languishing lily,

sɒm ˈsiː-vət fɒ ˈviɐ-vlɐ-nəs ˈstʁɶm-mə som Sivet for Hvirvlernes Strømme. like the willow to the whirls’ streams.

ti ˈjæɐ-tət ˀæɐ ˈlakt ˀɔn-nɐ ˈkæɐ-lɪ-heːðs ˈlɒʊ

Thi Hjærtet er lagt under Kærligheds Lov, For the heart must yield to love’s command,

sɒm ˈˀak-sət fɒ ˈleː-ən fɒ ˈˀøk-sən ˀen ˈskɒʊ

ti ˈjæɐ-tət ˀæɐ ˈlakt ˀɔn-nɐ ˈkæɐ-lɪ-heːðs ˈlɒʊ Thi Hjærtet er lagt under Kærligheds Lov, For the heart must yield to love’s command,

sɒm ˈˀak-sət fɒ ˈleː-ən fɒ ˈˀøk-sən ˀen ˈskɒʊ som Akset for Leen, for Øksen en Skov, like the spike to the scythe, to the ax a forest,

som Akset for Leen, for Øksen en Skov, like the spike to the scythe, to the ax a forest,

sɒm ˈnæt-tən fɒ ˈsoːl-guː-ðəns ˈstʁɔː-lɐ som Natten for Solgudens Straaler: like the night to the sun god’s rays:

dæɐ ˈstiɐ-ʁɐ ˀi-ˈmoːð ˀɒs fʁa ˈdøː-ðən ˀet ˈblek der stirrer imod os fra Døden et Blik, which stares at us from death (with) a glance, de ˈkæn kɔn bes-ˈvæɐ-ˠəs mɛð ˈliː-vəts mu-ˈsik det kan kun besværges med Livets Musik; it can only be exorcised by life’s music;

hɛn-ˈgiːv ˀɔn-nɐ ˈtoː-nən dit ˈˀɒf-fɐ m

-ðə hengiv under Tonen dit Offer med Glæde, give in to the sound your sacrifice with joy,

din ˈˀɛl-skɐ daɪ ˈlœn-nɐ mɛð ˈhɶɪ-sæː-l

din ˈˀɛl-skɐ daɪ ˈlœn-nɐ mɛð

-sæ

-l

sɛː-

ˈsɛː-ðə din Elsker dig lønner med Højsalens Sæde your lover you will reward with the hall’s seat

din Elsker dig lønner med Højsalens Sæde your lover you will reward with the hall’s seat mɛð ˈviːn ˀæ løk-ˈsæː-lɪ-heːð

mɛð ˈviːn ˀæ løk-ˈsæː-lɪ-heːðs ˈskɔː-lɐ med Vin af Lyksaligheds Skaaler! with wine from blissful toasts!

ɔː-lɐ med Vin af Lyksaligheds Skaaler! with wine from blissful toasts! dæ ˈkæn du ˀaɪ ˈ vɛl-jə du ˈhaː ˀeŋ-ŋən ˈvil-jə da kan du ej vælge. Du har ingen Vilje, Then can you not choose. You have no will,

Carl Bahnson (1845-1917)

VANDRINGSMANDENS SANGE No.1

JEG VANDRER AD DEN VEJ

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Peter E. Lange-Müller (1850-1926)

Opus 77 No.1

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

I WANDER ALONG THE PATH

Carl Bahnson 1918 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Jeg vandrer ad den Vej, jeg har valgt mig engang, I wander along the path, I once chose for myself, jeg vandrer uden Frygt, uden Klage; I wander without fear, without complaint, jeg vandrer snart i Stilhed I wander sometimes in silence og snart under Sang and sometimes with singing og ser mig kun sjeldent tilbage. and I seldom look back.

Er Vejen stundom trang, og gaar det mangen Gang If the path is sometimes narrow and if it often goes kun langsomt, only slowly som i Kamp med stride Bølger as if in a struggle with torrential waves, min Vandring standser ej: my walk never stops: jeg veed jo Maal og Vej because I know the goal and the route og veed paa hvem jeg tror og hvem jeg følger. and I know in whom I believe and who to follow.

Saa strider jeg min Strid I fight my fight in this way og faar dog stundom Tid and sometimes even have time at hjælpe, hvor jeg kan det, paa de Andres; to help other people where I can ved Morgen glad og let, in the morning I am happy and lighthearted, ved Aften hed og træt, in the evening hot and tired, og saadan skal det være, naar der vandres. and this is the way it must be when wandering.

Jeg vandrer snart i Stilhed I wander sometimes in silence og snart under Sang, and sometimes with song jeg vandrer uden Frygt, uden Klage; I wander without fear, without complaint, jeg vandrer ad den Vej, jeg har valgt mig engang, I wander along the path, I once chose for myself, jeg vandrer den alle mine Dage. I wander this path all the days of my life.

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˀæð dɛn ˈvaɪ jaɪ ha ˈvælt maɪ ˀen-ˈgaŋ Jeg vandrer ad den Vej, jeg har valgt mig engang, I walk on the path, I have chosen (for) myself once,

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˀæð dɛn ˈvaɪ jaɪ ha ˈvælt maɪ ˀen-ˈgaŋ

Jeg vandrer ad den Vej, jeg har valgt mig engang, I walk on the path, I have chosen (for) myself once,

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˀuː-ðən ˈfʁœkt ˀuː-ðən ˈklæː-ˠə jeg vandrer uden Frygt, uden Klage, I walk without fear, without complaint,

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˀuː-ðən ˈfʁœkt ˀuː-ðən ˈklæː-ˠə

jeg vandrer uden Frygt, uden Klage, I walk without fear, without complaint,

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˈsnaːt ˀi ˈstel-heːð ˀɒʊ ˈsnaːt ˀɔn-nɐ ˈsaŋ jeg vandrer snart i Stilhed og snart under Sang, I walk sometimes in silence and sometimes with song

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˈsnaːt ˀi ˈstel-heːð ˀɒʊ

jeg vandrer snart i Stilhed og snart under Sang, I walk sometimes in silence and sometimes with song

ˀɒʊ ˈseːɐ maɪ kɔn ˈɕɛl-lənt tel-ˈbæː-ˠə og ser mig kun sjeldent tilbage. And look me only seldom back (and seldom look back). ˀæɐ ˈva:-jən ˈstɔn-dɒm ˈtʁaŋ ˀɒʊ ˈgɒː de ˈmaŋ-ŋən ˈgaŋ

og ser mig kun sjeldent tilbage. And look me only seldom back (and seldom look back).

Er Vejen stundom trang og gaar det mangen Gang Is the path sometimes narrow and goes it many times

æɐ ˈva:-jən ˈstɔn-dɒ

kɔn ˈlaŋ-sɒmt sɒm ˀi ˈkamp mɛð ˈstʁiː-ðə ˈbøl-jɐ kun langsomt, som i Kamp med stride Bølger, only slowly, as in (a) struggle with torrential waves

n ˈgaŋ Er Vejen stundom trang og gaar det mangen Gang Is the path sometimes narrow and goes it many times kɔn ˈlaŋ-sɒmt sɒm

min ˈvan-dʁɪŋ ˈstæn-sɐ ˈˀaɪ jaɪ ˈveːð jo ˈmɔːl ˀɒʊ ˈvaɪ min Vandring standser ej: jeg veed jo Maal og Vej my walk stops not, I know well (the) goal and (the) route

ðə ˈbøl-jɐ kun langsomt, som i Kamp med stride Bølger, only slowly, as in (a) struggle with torrential waves min ˈvan-dʁɪŋ ˈstæn-sɐ

mɔː

ˀɒʊ ˈvaɪ min Vandring standser ej: jeg veed jo Maal og Vej my walk stops not, I know well (the) goal and (the) route

ˀɒʊ ˈveːð pɔ ˈ vɛm jaɪ ˈtʁoːɐ ˀɒʊ ˈ vɛm jaɪ ˈføl-jɐ og veed paa hvem jeg tror og hvem jeg følger. And (I) know in whom I believe and who I follow.

ˈføl-jɐ og veed paa hvem jeg tror og hvem jeg følger. And (I) know in whom I believe and who I follow.

ˈsɔː ˈstʁiː-ðɐ ˈjaɪ min ˈstʁ

min

ːð Saa strider jeg min Strid og faar dog stundom Tid Thus fight I my fight and get though sometimes time ˀæt ˈjɛl-pə ˈ vɒː jaɪ ˈkæn de pɔ di ˈˀan-dʁəs at hjælpe hvor jeg kan det paa de Andres; to help where I can (do) it for the others veð ˈmɒː-

Saa strider jeg min Strid og faar dog stundom Tid Thus fight I my fight and get though sometimes time

æt ˈjɛl-pə ˈ vɒː jaɪ ˈkæn de pɔ di ˈˀan-dʁəs at hjælpe hvor jeg kan det paa de Andres; to help where I can (do) it for the others

ved Morgen glad og let, ved Aften hed og træt in (the) morning happy and light, in (the) evening hot and tired

ˀɒʊ ˈsɒ-dæn ˈskæl de ˈ vɛː-ʁə nɒ dæɐ ˈvan-dʁəs og saadan skal det være naar, der vandres. and this way must it be when there (is) walking (being done). jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˀi ˈstel-heːð ˀɒʊ

æt ved Morgen glad og let, ved Aften hed og træt in (the) morning happy and light, in (the) evening hot and tired

n-nɐ

ŋ Jeg vandrer i Stilhed og snart under Sang, I walk in silence and sometime with song,

ˀɒʊ ˈsɒ-dæn ˈskæl de ˈ vɛː-ʁə nɒ dæɐ ˈvan-dʁəs og saadan skal det være naar, der vandres. and this way must it be when there (is) walking (being done).

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˀuː-ðən ˈfʁœkt ˀuː-

jeg vandrer uden Frygt, uden Klage, I walk without fear, without complaint,

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˀi ˈstel-heːð ˀɒʊ ˈsnaːt ˀɔn-nɐ ˈsaŋ Jeg vandrer i Stilhed og snart under Sang, I walk in silence and sometime with song,

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˀæð dɛn ˈvaɪ jaɪ ha ˈvælt maɪ ˀen-ˈgaŋ jeg vandrer ad den Vej, jeg har valgt mig engang I walk on the path, I have chosen (for) myself once

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˀuː-ðən ˈfʁœkt ˀuː-ðən ˈklæː-ˠə jeg vandrer uden Frygt, uden Klage, I walk without fear, without complaint,

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ d

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ ˀæð dɛn ˈvaɪ jaɪ ha ˈvælt maɪ ˀen-ˈgaŋ jeg vandrer ad den Vej, jeg har valgt mig engang I walk on the path, I have chosen (for) myself once

-ˠə jeg vandrer den alle mine Dage. I walk (on) it all my days (all the days of my life).

jaɪ ˈvan-dʁɐ dɛn ˈˀæl-lə miː-nə ˈdæː-ˠə jeg vandrer den alle mine Dage. I walk (on) it all my days (all the days of my life).

The potential was there, but death had other ideas: No one envies Hilda Sehested’s fate.

She grew up in Broholm manor, with a privileged life. The estate, between Nyborg and Svendborg, had been in the hands of the Sehesteds for centuries, and has remained so up to the present day. As a young man, her father discovered one of Denmark’s greatest ancient gold treasures on the family’s land, and had subsequently turned to archaeology full-time. Two of Hilda’s many brothers became prominent politicians –one of them prime minister at the turn of the century, the other Denmark’s first minister of agriculture.

Hilda played the piano. Famous virtuosos who visited the family gave her the desire to take the music more seriously, and so at the age of just 15, she moved to Copenhagen with a view to getting the best tutors, at any price. Her piano teacher became C.F.E. Horneman (1840-1906), with his beautiful theatre music and French-inspired colouring. Her composition teacher was Orla Rosenhoff, who later became Carl Nielsen’s teacher of harmony and counterpoint at the Academy. And since money was no object, she could afford to travel to Paris to take piano lessons from Louise Massart – the long-time girlfriend of composer Hector Berlioz.

– a woman of means with musical skill 1858-1936

The idyll seemed boundless – especially as the woman with the many possibilities and the growing catalogue of works now also found love! Ten years her senior, Henry Petersen of the National Museum had been a professional advisor to her father, and had lost his heart to her.

But then, in 1896, on a holiday, it all went wrong. Her fiancé dropped dead, aged 47. The couple had planned to hold their wedding shortly after the holiday. Hilda Sehested more or less sank to the bottom in the following years, and her score-writing pen was put away in favour of a vocation as a nurse. It was only after the turn of the century that she turned to playing the organ, and her creative powers returned. The main works of her mature years are her ambitious piano sonata from 1904 and the opera Agnete and the Merman from 1914 – first performed in concert in recent times.

Sehested had a skilled musical ear, and at the same time showed better craftsmanship than many others. Carl Nielsen, feeling disgruntled after the premiere performance of Sinfonia Espansiva in 1911, wrote in his diary: “Miss Sehested understood me best.”

Valdemar Rørdam (1872-1946)

SANGE No.1

JEG VEED EN ROSE

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Hilda Sehested (1858-1936) Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

JEG VEED EN ROSE

I KNOW A ROSE

Valdemar Rørdam 1913 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Jeg veed en Rose, der venter mig.

En Rose Hvem?

En Rose Hvor?

I know a rose that awaits me.

A rose – Who?

En Rose Hvor? A rose – Where?

En Rose. Jeg røber det aldrig.

A rose – Where?

A rose. I shall never disclose it.

En Rose. Jeg røber det aldrig. A rose. I shall never disclose it.

Jeg kom dertil, hvor Rosen stod; I arrived where the rose was placed; videre maatte jeg vandre. I had to wander further.

Men i mit Hjerte slog Rosen Rod

But in my heart the rose took root saa lad den brydes af andre. let it be picked by others.

En Dag, en Time, og alt forbi.

One day, one hour, and everything is over.

Vi glemtes, og visnede glade. We lost ourselves and withered happily.

Det Blomsterbæger bor jeg i

My home is that flowery chalice jeg blødte min Sjæl i dets Blade. I alleviated my soul in its petals.

Det Blomsterbæger bor jeg i My home is that flowery chalice jeg blødte min Sjæl i dets Blade. I alleviated my soul in its petals.

Jeg veed en Rose, der venter mig.

I know a rose that awaits me. Hvem? Hvor? What? Where?

Om Tusend Aar.

En Rose. Jeg røber det aldrig.

In a thousand years.

En Rose. Jeg røber det aldrig. A rose. I shall never disclose it.

A rose. I shall never disclose it.

jaɪ ˈveːð ˀen ˈʁoː-sə dæɐ ˈ vɛn-tɐ ˈmaɪ Jeg veed en Rose, der venter mig. I know a rose that awaits me.

ˀen ˈʁoː-sə ˈ vɛm

En Rose Hvem?

A rose Who?

ˀen ˈʁoː-sə ˈ vɒː

En Rose Hvor?

A rose Where?

ˀen ˈʁoː-sə jaɪ ˈʁœː-bɐ de ˈˀal-dʁɪ

En Rose. Jeg røber det aldrig.

A rose. I disclose it never.

jaɪ ˈkɒm dæɐˈtel vɒ ˈʁoː-sən ˈstoːð

Jeg kom dertil, hvor Rosen stod; I arrived to the place where the rose stood;

ˈviː-ðɐ-ʁə ˈmɒt-tə jaɪ ˈvan-dʁə videre maatte jeg vandre. further must I wander.

mɛn ˀi mit ˈjɛɐ-tə sloːˠ ˈʁoː-sən ˈʁoːð

Men i mit Hjerte slog Rosen rod But in my heart took the rose root

sɒ læð dɛn ˈbʁyː-ðəs æ ˀan-dʁə saa lad den brydes af andre. then let it be broken by others.

ˀen ˈdæːˠ ˀen ˈtiː-mə ˀɒʊ ˈˀælt fɒˈbiː

En Dag, en Time, og alt forbi. One day one hour and everything is over.

vi ˈglɛm-təs ˀɒʊ ˈves-nə-ðə ˈglæː-ðə

Vi glemtes, og visnede glade.

We lost ourselves and withered happily.

de ˈblɒm-stɐˈbɛː-ˠɐ ˈboɐ jaɪ ˈˀ

det Blomsterbæger bor jeg i That flowery chalice live I in

ɪ ˈbløːtə min ˈɕɛːl ˀi dets ˈ

ː-ðə jeg blødte min Sjæl i dets Blade. I alleviated my soul in its petals.

But in my heart took the rose root

sɒ læð dɛn ˈbʁyː-ðəs æ ˀan-dʁə

saa lad den brydes af andre. then let it be broken by others.

ˀen ˈdæːˠ ˀen ˈtiː-mə ˀɒʊ ˈˀælt fɒˈbiː

En Dag, en Time, og alt forbi. One day one hour and everything is over.

vi ˈglɛm-təs ˀɒʊ ˈves-nə-ðə ˈglæː-ðə

Vi glemtes, og visnede glade. We lost ourselves and withered happily.

de ˈblɒm-stɐˈbɛː-ˠɐ ˈboɐ jaɪ ˈˀiː

det Blomsterbæger bor jeg i

That flowery chalice live I in

jaɪ ˈbløːtə min ˈɕɛːl ˀi dets ˈblæː-ðə

jeg blødte min Sjæl i dets Blade.

I alleviated my soul in its petals.

jaɪ ˈveːð ˀen ˈʁoː-sə dæɐ ˈ vɛn-tɐ ˈmaɪ

Jeg veed en Rose, der venter mig.

I know a rose that awaits me.

ˈ vɛm ˈ vɒː

Hvem? Hvor? What? Where?

ˀɒm ˈtuː-sən ˈˀɒː

Om Tusend Aar.

In a thousand years.

ˀen ˈʁoː-sə jaɪ ˈʁœː-bɐ de ˈˀal-dʁɪ

En Rose. Jeg røber det aldrig.

A rose. I disclose it never.

Jeg veed en Rose, der venter mig. I know a rose that awaits me.

Axel Juel (1883-1948)

SANGE No.3

KYS

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Hilda Sehested (1858-1936)

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

Axel Juel 1909 2023

Et svigtende, bristende bliv

ˈˀet ˈsvek-tən-nə ˈbʁɛ-stən-nə ˈbliːv

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Et svigtende, bristende bliv

A failing bursting stay

A failing, bursting – stay –og den dør, den sælsomme Blomst and it dies, the mysterious flower aandedraglangt er dens Liv. only the length of one breath is its life.

ˀɒʊ dɛn ˈdøːɐ dɛn ˈsɛːl-sɒm-mə ˈblɒmst og den dør, den sælsomme Blomst and it dies the mysterious flower

ˈˀɒn-nə-dʁaːˠ-laŋt ˀæɐ dɛns ˈliːv Åndedraglangt er dens Liv. the length of one breath is its life.

Den dør i et skælvende Gys, It dies with a quivering shiver, der sitrende stiger fra Kalkens Bund, which trembling ascends from the bottom of the chalice, dog endnu den lever en stakket Stund, yet it still lives a brief hour, lever i Øjnenes Lys. lives in the light of the eyes.

dɛn ˈdøːɐ ˀi ˈˀet ˈskɛl-vən-nə ˈgyːs

Og Læberne mødes som før,

Og Læberne mødes som før, And the lips meet like before, mødes, og Kyssets sælsomme Blomst meet, and the mysterious flower of the kiss fødes is born –fødes og aander og dør. is born – and breathes – and dies.

Den dør i et skælvende Gys, It dies with a quivering shiver,

And the lips meet like before, mødes, og Kyssets sælsomme Blomst meet, and the mysterious flower of the kiss fødes is born –fødes og aander og dør. is born – and breathes – and dies.

dæɐ ˈsit-ʁən-nə ˈstiː-ˠɐ fʁa ˈkæl-kəns ˈbɔn der sitrende stiger fra Kalkens Bund, which trembling ascends from the chalice’s bottom,

dɒʊ ˈˀɛːn-nu dɛn ˈleː-vɐ ˀen ˈstak-kət ˈstɔn dog endnu den lever en stakket Stund, yet still it lives a brief hour,

ˈˀet ˈsvek-tən-nə ˈbʁɛ-stən-nə ˈbliːv

Et svigtende, bristende bliv

A failing bursting stay

ˀɒʊ dɛn ˈdøːɐ dɛn ˈsɛːl-sɒm-mə ˈblɒmst og den dør, den sælsomme Blomst and it dies the mysterious flower

ˈˀɒn-nə-dʁaːˠ-laŋt ˀæɐ dɛns ˈliːv Åndedraglangt er dens Liv. the length of one breath is its life.

dɛn ˈdøːɐ ˀi ˈˀet ˈskɛl-vən-nə ˈgyːs Den dør i et skælvende Gys, It dies with a quivering shiver,

dæɐ ˈsit-ʁən-nə ˈstiː-ˠɐ fʁa ˈkæl-kəns ˈbɔn der sitrende stiger fra Kalkens Bund, which trembling ascends from the chalice’s bottom,

dɒʊ ˈˀɛːn-nu dɛn ˈleː-vɐ ˀen ˈstak-kət ˈstɔn dog endnu den lever en stakket Stund, yet still it lives a brief hour,

ˈleː-vɐ ˀi ˈˀɶɪ-nə-nəs ˈlyːs lever i Øjnenes Lys. lives in the eyes’ light.

ˀɒʊ ˈlɛː-bɐ-nə ˈmø

Og læberne mødes som før,

ˈleː-vɐ ˀi ˈˀɶɪ-nə-nəs ˈlyːs lever i Øjnenes Lys. lives in the eyes’ light.

ˀɒʊ ˈlɛː-bɐ-nə ˈmøː-ðəs sɒm ˈfœːɐ Og læberne mødes som før, And the lips meet like before, ˈmøː-ðəs ɒʊ ˈkøs-səts ˈsɛːl-sɒm-mə ˈblɒmst mødes, og Kyssets sælsomme Blomst Meet and the kiss’ mysterious flower

ˈføː-ðəs fødes is born —

ˈføː-ðəs ˀɒʊ ˈˀɒn-nɐ ˀɒʊ ˈdøːɐ fødes og ånder og dør. is born and breathes and dies.

CARL AUGUST NIELSEN

1865-1931

– the composer with the warm songs of life and the cold sounds of death

All Danes have an opinion about the music of Carl Nielsen: Either we don’t like it, or else we just love his many songs. Or perhaps we find his six symphonies too knotty. And can we really call his particular tone “Danish” in any true sense? Surely no composer in the world has remained so controversial so long after his death.

Carl Nielsen’s own life also went from one extreme to another: Consider his path from an impoverished upbringing in Sortelung on Funen to the role of nationally-renowned composer and director of the Academy. Or consider his never-dull marriage to the sculptor Anne Marie Carl-Nielsen – increasingly recognised as an artist fully on a par with him.

Neither is it really possible to put a label on his music: It is neither Late Romantic nor Neoclassical, neither very clever nor very amateurish, neither particularly elitist nor particularly popular. Carl Nielsen himself did not wish his music to be labelled as ‘Danishminded’ music, and in fact disliked all talk of music as anything other than music in its own right. And his songs and hymns are thus a microcosm of it all: Until recently, ordinary Danes probably knew dozens

of them. People have delighted in Irmelin Rose and shuddered over Sænk kun dit hoved (‘Just bow your head’) for more than a century. You get all the most important aspects of Carl Nielsen’s art in even a very short song with the same music in all the verses: his small steps in the melody, his varied harmonies on the piano, his characteristic joy in the music here and now. Carl Nielsen will even sometimes allow the music to end in a “wrong” key – simply because he is concerned with the expression from note to note, and less so with the form.

Foreigners don’t always understand the beauty of his songs. They are delighted by his orchestral music, but disappointed in his pieces for voice and piano. Despite the close relationship Danes have with the songs, they do not always sound like anything special to others.

The explanation is probably once again our dislike of pathos: Carl Nielsen simply did not wish to set his delights and his horrors to melodramatic music. He chose his ‘small’ solutions with care, and from there found his way to the understated side of Danish culture.

Jens Peter Jacobsen (1847-1885)

FEM DIGTE No.1

SOLNEDGANG

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Carl Nielsen (1865-1931)

Opus 4 No.1

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

SUNSET SOLNEDGANG

Jens Peter Jacobsen 1868 2023

Svømmende Skyer, dejlige Cyclader,

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Svømmende Skyer, dejlige Cyclader, Floating clouds, lovely Cyklades, Roser, der vugges paa Lyshavets1 Bryst, roses cradled at the breast of the sea of light,1 stænkede af Sphærers tonende Cascader, sprinkled by the sounding cascades of the Spheres, Sollyset skummende mod Eders Kyst, the sunlight foaming against your shore. I alene ere You alone are værdige at bære worthy of bearing Navnet af Asalis lykkelige Land. the name of Asali’s fortunate land.

Floating clouds, lovely Cyklades, Roser, der vugges paa Lyshavets1 Bryst, roses cradled at the breast of the sea of light,1 stænkede af Sphærers tonende Cascader, sprinkled by the sounding cascades of the Spheres, Sollyset skummende mod Eders Kyst, the sunlight foaming against your shore. I alene ere You alone are værdige at bære worthy of bearing Navnet af Asalis lykkelige Land. the name of Asali’s fortunate land.

Der skal hun trone, drømmende sig hvile

Life and the world, God and eternity; Et mig kun skal fylde One thing alone shall replenish me, løfte og fortrylle, lift me and enchant me Elskovs Evangelium i Asalis Navn. the gospel of love in the name of Asali.

There she shall sit on the throne, resting in her dream der skal jeg knæle tavs hos hende ned, there I shall kneel down silently beside her der skal jeg glemme, mens I fremad ile, there I shall forget, while you rush forward, Livet og Verden, Gud og Evighed; Life and the world, God and eternity; Et mig kun skal fylde One thing alone shall replenish me, løfte og fortrylle, lift me and enchant me Elskovs Evangelium i Asalis Navn. the gospel of love in the name of Asali.

1 J.P.Jacobsen: ”Lufthavets”

svœm-m

Svømmende Skyer, dejlige Cyclader,2 Floating clouds, lovely Cyklades,

1 J.P.Jacobsen: ”sea of air”

Roser, der vugges på Lyshavets Bryst, roses, which are being cradled at the sea of light’s breast,

stænkede af Sfærers tonende Kaskader, sprinkled by the Spheres’ sounding cascades,

Floating clouds, lovely Cyklades,

Roser, der vugges på Lyshavets Bryst, roses, which are being cradled at the sea of light’s breast,

ˈʁ

Roser, der vugges på Lyshavets Bryst, roses, which are being cradled at the sea of light’s breast,

-k

stæŋ-kə-ðə ˀæ

Roser, der vugges på Lyshavets Bryst, roses, which are being cradled at the sea of light’s breast, ˈstæŋ-kə-ðə ˀæ ˈsfɛː-ʁɐs ˈtoː-nən-nə kæ-

stænkede af Sfærers tonende Kaskader, sprinkled by the Spheres’ sounding cascades,

stænkede af Sfærers tonende Kaskader, sprinkled by the Spheres’ sounding cascades, ˈsoːl-ˌlyː-sət ˈskɔm-mən-nə moð

stænkede af Sfærers tonende Kaskader, sprinkled by the Spheres’ sounding cascades,

Sollyset skummende mod Eders Kyst. the sunlight foaming against your shore,

ˈsoːl-ˌlyː-sət ˈskɔm-mən-nə moð ˈˀeː-ðɐs ˈkøst

Sollyset skummende mod Eders Kyst. the sunlight foaming against your shore,

I alene ere værdige at bære

Sollyset skummende mod Eders Kyst. the sunlight foaming against your shore,

You alone are worthy of carrying,

I alene ere værdige at bære You alone are worthy of carrying,

I alene ere værdige at bære

Navnet af Asalis lykkelige Land. the name of Asali’s fortunate land.

You alone are worthy of carrying, ˈna -nət ˀæ ˀæ-ˈsæː-lis ˈløk-kə-lɪ-ˠə ˈlæn

læn Navnet af Asalis lykkelige Land. the name of Asali’s fortunate land.

dɛːɐ

Der skal hun trone, drømmende sig hvile, There shall she sit enthroned, dreamily herself resting,

Navnet af Asalis lykkelige Land. the name of Asali’s fortunate land. ˈdɛːɐ skæl hun ˈtʁoː-nə

Der skal hun trone, drømmende sig hvile, There shall she sit enthroned, dreamily herself resting,

der skal jeg knæle tavs hos hende ned, there shall I kneel silently by her down,

der skal jeg knæle tavs hos hende ned, there shall I kneel silently by her down, ˈdɛːɐ skæl jaɪ ˈglɛm-mə ˈmɛ

ˀi

Der skal hun trone, drømmende sig hvile, There shall she sit enthroned, dreamily herself resting, ˈdɛːɐ skæl jaɪ ˈknɛː-lə ˈta s hɔs ˈhen-nə ˈneːð der skal jeg knæle tavs hos hende ned, there shall I kneel silently by her down,

ð ˈˀ

-lə der skal jeg glemme, mens I fremad ile, there shall I forget, while you forward hasten, ˈliː-vət ˀɒ ˈvæɐ-dən ˈguð

Livet og Verden, Gud og Evighed. the life and the world, God and eternity

ˈdɛːɐ skæl jaɪ ˈglɛm-mə ˈmɛns ˀi ˈfʁæ-mæð ˈˀiː-lə der skal jeg glemme, mens I fremad ile, there shall I forget, while you forward hasten, ˈliː-vət ˀɒ ˈvæɐ-dən ˈguð ˀɒ ˈˀeː-vɪ-heːð

der skal jeg glemme, mens I fremad ile, there shall I forget, while you forward hasten,

Livet og Verden, Gud og Evighed. the life and the world, God and eternity

ˈˀet maɪ ˈkɔn skæl ˈfyl-lə ˈløf-tə ˀɒ fɒˈtʁyl-lə

Livet og Verden, Gud og Evighed. the life and the world, God and eternity

Et mig kun skal fylde, løfte og fortrylle One thing me only shall replenish, lift and enchant

ˈˀɛl-skɒ s ˀe-vaŋˈgeː-liɔm ˀi ˀæ-ˈsæː-lis ˈna n

ˈˀet maɪ ˈkɔn skæl ˈfyl-lə ˈløf-tə ˀɒ fɒˈtʁyl-lə Et mig kun skal fylde, løfte og fortrylle One thing me only shall replenish, lift and enchant

Elskovs Evangelium i Asalis Navn. passion’s gospel in Asali’s name.

yl-lə Et mig kun skal fylde, løfte og fortrylle One thing me only shall replenish, lift and enchant ˈˀɛl-skɒ s ˀe-vaŋˈgeː-liɔm ˀi ˀæ-ˈsæː-lis ˈna n Elskovs Evangelium i Asalis Navn. passion’s gospel in Asali’s name

1 Staves her med ”c” og udtales traditionelt med ”s”. Kan også udtales kyˈklæː-ðɐ

ˈˀɛl-skɒ s ˀe-vaŋˈgeː-liɔm ˀi ˀæ-ˈsæː-lis ˈna n Elskovs Evangelium i Asalis Navn. passion’s gospel in Asali’s name

Traditionally the name is pronounced with an initial “s”, but it can also be pronounced ky-ˈklæː-ðɐ

2 Kykladerne - Øgruppe i det ægæiske hav, som i oldtiden mentes at ligge i ring om den hellige ø Delos

1 Staves her med ”c” og udtales traditionelt med ”s”. Kan også udtales kyˈklæː-ðɐ

The Cyclades - group of islands in the Aegean Sea, which in ancient times were believed to lie around the sacred island of Delos

Traditionally the name is pronounced with an initial “s”, but it can also be pronounced ky-ˈklæː-ðɐ

1 Staves her med ”c” og udtales traditionelt med ”s”. Kan også udtales kyˈklæː-ðɐ.

2 Kykladerne - Øgruppe i det ægæiske hav, som i oldtiden mentes at ligge i ring om den hellige ø Delos

Traditionally the name is pronounced with an initial “s”, but it can also be pronounced ky-ˈklæː-ðɐ

The Cyclades - group of islands in the Aegean Sea, which in ancient times were believed to lie around the sacred island of Delos

2 Kykladerne - Øgruppe i det ægæiske hav, som i oldtiden mentes at ligge i ring om den hellige ø Delos The Cyclades - group of islands in the Aegean Sea, which in ancient times were believed to lie around the sacred island of Delos

Jens Peter Jacobsen (1847-1885)

FEM DIGTE No.2

I SERAILLETS HAVE

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Carl Nielsen (1865-1931) Opus 4 No.2

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

The rose lowers its head weighed down

Jens Peter Jacobsen 1870 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Rosen sænker sit Hoved, tungt

The rose lowers its head weighed down af Dug og Duft, by dew and fragrance, og Pinjerne svaje saa tyst og mat and the pines sway silently and faintly i lumre Luft. in the stifling air

Kilderne vælte det tunge Sølv

ˀæ ˈduk ˀɒʊ ˈdɔft af Dug og Duft, with dew and fragrance, ˀɒʊ ˈpin-jɐ-nə ˈsva-jə sɒ ˈtyst ˀɒʊ ˈmæt og Pinjerne svaje saa tyst og mat and the pines sway so silently and faintly

ˀi ˈlɔm-ʁə ˈlɔft i lumre Luft. in the stifling air

From the fountains spring heavy silver i døsig Ro, in sleepy serenity, Minareterne pege mod Himlen op the minarets point to the sky i Tyrketro, with blind faith,

ˈkil-lɐ-nə ˈ vɛl-lə de ˈtɔŋ-ŋə ˈsølv Kilderne vælde det tunge Sølv (From) the fountains spring the heavy silver

og Halvmaanen driver saa jævnt afsted

og Halvmaanen driver saa jævnt afsted and the halfmoon drifts so gently over det jævne Blaa, across the plain blue sky, og den kysser Rosers og Liljers Flok, and it kisses the roses and lilies alle de Blomster smaa and all the little flowers i Seraillets Have, in the garden of the Seraglio, i Seraillets Have. in the garden of the Seraglio

and the halfmoon drifts so gently over det jævne Blaa, across the plain blue sky, og den kysser Rosers og Liljers Flok, and it kisses the roses and lilies alle de Blomster smaa and all the little flowers i Seraillets Have, in the garden of the Seraglio, i Seraillets Have. in the garden of the Seraglio

ˈʁoː-sən ˈsɛŋ-kɐ sit ˈhoː-vəð ˈtɔŋt Rosen sænker sit Hoved, tungt The rose lowers its head weighed down

ˀæ ˈduk ˀɒʊ ˈdɔft af Dug og Duft, with dew and fragrance,

ˀɒʊ ˈpin-jɐ-nə ˈsva-jə sɒ ˈtyst ˀɒʊ ˈmæt og Pinjerne svaje saa tyst og mat and the pines sway so silently and faintly

ˀi ˈlɔm-ʁə ˈlɔft i lumre Luft. in the stifling air

ˈkil-lɐ-nə ˈ vɛl-lə de ˈtɔŋ-ŋə ˈsølv

Kilderne vælde det tunge Sølv (From) the fountains spring the heavy silver

ˀi ˈdøː-sɪ ˈʁoː i døsig Ro, in sleepy serenity, mi-na-ˈʁɛː-tɐ-nə ˈpa-jə mo

Minareterne pege mod Himlen op The minarets point towards the sky up ˀi ˈtyɐ-kəˌtʁoː i Tyrketro, with blind faith,

ˀi ˈdøː-sɪ ˈʁoː i døsig Ro, in sleepy serenity, mi-na-ˈʁɛː-tɐ-nə ˈpa-jə moð ˈhem-lən ˈˀɒp Minareterne pege mod Himlen op The minarets point towards the sky up

ˀi ˈtyɐ-kəˌtʁoː i Tyrketro, with blind faith, ˀɒʊ ˈhælv-mɔː-nən ˈdʁiː-vɐ sɒ ˈjɛʊnt ˀæ-ˈ

og Halvmaanen drive saa jævnt afsted and the halfmoon drifts so gently away

ˈˀɒː-vɐ de ˈjɛʊ-nə ˈblɔː over det jævne Blaa, across the plain blue, ˀɒʊ dɛn ˈkøs-sɐ ˈʁoː-sɐs ˀɒʊ ˈlil-jɐs ˈflɒk og den kysser Rosers og Liljers flok, and it kisses the roses’ and lilies’ flock, ˈˀæl-lə di ˈblɒm-stɐ ˈsmɔː alle de Blomster smaa all the flowers small

ˀi se-ˈʁa-jəts ˈhæː-və i Seraillets Have, in the seraglio garden,

ˀi se-ˈʁa-jəts ˈhæː-və i Seraillets Have. in the seraglio garden

Jens Peter Jacobsen (1847-1885)

FEM DIGTE No.3

TIL ASALI

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Carl Nielsen (1865-1931) Opus 4 No.3

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

Jens Peter Jacobsen 1868

Før drømte jeg fast hver eneste Nat,

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

2023

Earlier I dreamt almost every night, jeg havde dit Hjerte vundet; I dreamt that I had won your heart. Ak, hvor var Dagen da mørk og mat,

Oh how dark and dull was the day, naar Mulmet igjen var svundet! when the darkness had disappeared again.

Earlier I dreamt almost every night, jeg havde dit Hjerte vundet; I dreamt that I had won your heart. Ak, hvor var Dagen da mørk og mat, Oh how dark and dull was the day, naar Mulmet igjen var svundet! when the darkness had disappeared again.

Nu plager en Drøm mig saa tung og svar,

Now a dream haunts me so heavily and hard, den at jeg dit Hjerte har mistet; the dream that I have lost your heart; O, hvor er Dagen da lys og klar,

Oh how bright and clear is the day naar Mørket sig bort har listet! when the darkness has crept away. fɶɐ ˈdʁɶm-tə jaɪ

Now a dream haunts me so heavily and hard, den at jeg dit Hjerte har mistet; the dream that I have lost your heart; O, hvor er Dagen da lys og klar,

Oh how bright and clear is the day naar Mørket sig bort har listet! when the darkness has crept away.

Før drømte jeg fast hver eneste Nat, Before dreamt I almost every single night jaɪ ˈhæ

-ðə dit

jeg havde dit Hjerte vundet; I had your heart won.

ˀak ˈ vɒː va ˈdæ

k ˀɒʊ ˈmæt ak, hvor var Dagen da mørk og mat, O, how was the day then dark and dull,

nɒ ˈmul-mət ˀi-ˈgɛn va ˈsvɔn-nət naar Mulmet igen var svundet. when the darkness again had disappeared.

nu ˈplæː-ˠɐ ˀen ˈdʁɶm maɪ sɒ ˈtɔŋ ˀɒʊ ˈsvaː Nu plager en Drøm mig saa tung og svar, Now haunts a dream me so heavy and hard,

dɛn ˈˀæt jaɪ dit ˈjæɐ-tə ha ˈme-stət den at jeg dit Hjerte har mistet; the dream that I your heart have lost;

ˀo ˈ vɒː ˀæɐ ˈdæː-ˠən dæ ˈlyːs ˀɒʊ ˈklaː o hvor er Dagen da lys og klar, O how is the day then bright and clear,

nɒ ˈmɶɐ-kət saɪ ˈbɒːt ha ˈle-stət naar Mørket sig bort har listet. when the darkness itself away has crept.

Jens Peter Jacobsen (1847-1885)

FEM DIGTE No.4

IRMELIN ROSE

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Carl Nielsen (1865-1931)

Opus 4 No.4

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

IRMELIN ROSE

Jens Peter Jacobsen 1875? 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Se, der var en Gang en Konge,

Once upon a time there was a King mangen Skat1 han kaldte sin, who called many a treasure1 his own Navnet paa den allerbedste the name of the one he prized the highest vidste hver var Irmelin, everyone knew was Irmelin. Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol, Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun, Irmelin Alt, hvad der er1 dejligt.

Irmelin, the most lovely of all.

Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun, Irmelin Alt, hvad der er1 dejligt.

Irmelin, the most lovely of all.

Alle Ridderhjelme spejled

All the knights’ helmets reflected hendes Farvers muntre Pragt, her colors’ gay splendor og med alle Rim og Rythmer and with every rhyme and rhythm havde Navnet sluttet Pagt: the name had made a pact: Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol, Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun, Irmelin Alt, hvad der er2 dejligt.

Irmelin, the most lovely of all.

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol,

Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun, Irmelin Alt, hvad der er2 dejligt.

Irmelin, the most lovely of all.

Hele store Bejlerflokke

Large flocks of suitors der til Kongens Gaarde foer, rushed to the King’s manors nejlede med ømme Lader courting her with awkward gestures og med blomsterfagre Ord: and flowery speech:

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol,

Large flocks of suitors der til Kongens Gaarde foer, rushed to the King’s manors nejlede med ømme Lader courting her with awkward gestures og med blomsterfagre Ord: and flowery speech:

Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun, Irmelin Alt, hvad der er dejligt.

Irmelin, the most lovely of all.

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol,

Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun, Irmelin Alt, hvad der er dejligt.

Men Prindsessen jog dem fra sig

Irmelin, the most lovely of all.

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol,

Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun, Irmelin Alt, hvad der er dejligt.

Irmelin, the most lovely of all.

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol, Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun, Irmelin Alt, hvad der er dejligt. Irmelin, the most lovely of all.

But the Princess drove them away (Hjertet var saa koldt som Staal), (her heart was cold as steel) lastede den Enes Holdning, criticizing the posture of one vrænged ad den Andens Maal3 and mocking the other’s language.3 Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol, Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun, Irmelin Alt, hvad der er dejligt. Irmelin, the most lovely of all.

1 "skat" har tre betydninger på dansk i dag:

1 “skat” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) rigdom, b) afgift, c) kæreste a) treasure, b) tax, c) sweetheart

1 "skat" har tre betydninger på dansk i dag:

2 J.P. Jacobsen: ”var”

1 “skat” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) rigdom, b) afgift, c) kæreste

2 J.P. Jacobsen: ”was”

1 “skat” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) rigdom, b) afgift, c) kæreste a) treasure, b) tax, c) sweetheart

2 J.P. Jacobsen: ”var”

3 "maal" har tre betydninger på dansk i dag:

2 J.P. Jacobsen: ”var”

3 "maal" har tre betydninger på dansk i dag:

a) treasure, b) tax, c) sweetheart

3 “maal” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) sprog, b) hensigt, c) størrelse

3 “maal” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) sprog, b) hensigt, c) størrelse a) language, b) intention, c) size

3 "maal" har tre betydninger på dansk i dag:

2 J.P. Jacobsen: ”was”

a) language, b) intention, c) size

3 “maal” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) sprog, b) hensigt, c) størrelse

a) language, b) intention, c) size

se dæɐ ˈva ˀen ˈgaŋ ˀen ˈkɒŋ-ŋə

Se, der var en Gang en Konge, See, there was once a king,

maŋ-ŋən ˈskæt hæn ˈkæl-tə ˈsiːn mangen Skat han kaldte sin, many a treasure1 he called his,

naʊ-nət ˈpɔ dɛn ˈˀæl-lɐˈbɛ-stə navnet paa den Allerbedste the name of the very best

mɛn pʁɛn-ˈsɛs-sən ˈjoːˠ dɛm ˈfʁa saɪ

Men Prindsessen jog dem fra sig

ve-stə ˈ vɛːɐ va ˈˀiɐ-məˈliːn vidste hver var Irmelin, everyone knew was Irmelin.

But the princess drove them away from her

ˈˀiɐ-mə-lin ˈʁoː-sə ˈˀiɐ-mə-lin ˈsoːl

ˈˀæl-lə ˈʁið-ðɐˈjɛl-mə ˈspaɪ-ləð

Alle Ridderhjelme spejled

All the Knights’ helmets reflected hen-nəs ˈfaː-vɐs ˈmɔn-tʁə ˈpʁakt

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol, Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun,

jæɐ-tət ˈva sɒ ˈkɒlt sɒm ˈstɔːl

(Hjertet var saa koldt som Staal), (the heart was as cold as steel),

ˈˀiɐ-məˈliːn ˈˀælt væð dæɐ ˀæɐ ˈdaɪ-lɪt

hendes Farvers muntre Pragt, Her colors’ gay splendor, ˀɒʊ mɛð ˈˀæl-lə ˈʁiːm ˀɒʊ ˈʁyt-mɐ

læ-stə-ˈðə dɛn ˈˀeː-nəs ˈhɒl-nɪŋ

Irmelin Alt, hvad der er dejligt!

Irmelin all that which is wonderful!

lastede den enes Holdning, criticized (the) one’s posture,

vʁæŋ-ŋəð ˈˀæð dɛn ˈˀæn-nəns ˈmɔːl vrænged ad den andens Maal.

mocked at the other’s language 2

ˈˀiɐ-mə-lin ˈʁoː-sə ˈˀiɐ-mə-lin ˈsoːl

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol,

Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun,

ˈˀiɐ-məˈliːn ˈˀælt væð dæɐ ˀæɐ ˈdaɪ-lɪt

Irmelin Alt, hvad der er dejligt!

Irmelin all that which is wonderful!

og med alle Rim og Rytmer and with every rhyme and rhythm

hæ-ðə ˈnaʊ-nət ˈslut-tət ˈpakt

havde Navnet sluttet Pagt:

had the name made a pact:

ˈˀiɐ-mə-lin ˈʁoː-sə ˈˀiɐ-mə-lin ˈsoːl

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol, Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun, ˈˀiɐ-məˈliːn ˈˀælt væð dæɐ ˀæɐ ˈdaɪ-lɪt

Irmelin Alt, hvad der er dejligt!

Irmelin all that which is wonderful!

1 the word “skat” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) treasure, b) tax, c) sweetheart

2 the word “maal” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) language, b) intention, c) size

he-lə ˈstoː-ʁə ˈbaɪ-lɐˈflɒk-kə

Hele store Bejlerflokke

Entire big flocks of suitors

dæɐ tel ˈkɒŋ-ŋəns ˈgɒː-ʁə ˈfoːɐ der til Kongens Gaarde foer, who to the King’s manors rushed, baɪ-lə-ˈðə mɛð ˈˀœm-mə ˈlæː-ðɐ bejlede med ømme Lader courted with tender gestures

mɛn pʁɛn-ˈsɛs-sən ˈjoːˠ dɛm ˈfʁa saɪ

Men Prindsessen jog dem fra sig

ˀɒʊ mɛð ˈblɒm-stɐˈfaˠ-ʁə ˈˀoɐ og med blomsterfagre Ord: and with flowery words:

But the princess drove them away from her

ˈˀiɐ-mə-lin ˈʁoː-sə ˈˀi

jæɐ-tət ˈva sɒ ˈkɒlt sɒm ˈstɔːl (Hjertet var saa koldt som Staal), (the heart was as cold as steel),

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol, Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun, ˈˀiɐ-məˈliːn ˈˀælt væð dæɐ ˀæɐ ˈdaɪ-lɪt

læ-stə-ˈðə dɛn ˈˀeː-nəs ˈhɒl-nɪŋ

mɛn

Men Prindsessen jog dem fra sig

But the princess drove them away from her

(Hjertet var saa koldt som Staal), (the heart was as cold as steel),

læ-stə-ˈðə dɛn ˈˀeː-nəs ˈhɒl-nɪŋ

Irmelin Alt, hvad der er dejligt!

Irmelin all that which is wonderful!

lastede den enes Holdning, criticized (the) one’s posture,

læ-stə-ˈðə dɛn ˈˀeː-nəs ˈhɒl-nɪŋ lastede den enes Holdning, criticized (the) one’s posture,

vʁæŋ-ŋəð ˈˀæð dɛn ˈˀæn-nəns ˈmɔːl

vrænged ad den andens Maal.

lastede den enes Holdning, criticized (the) one’s posture,

vʁæŋ-ŋəð ˈˀæð dɛn ˈˀæn-nəns ˈmɔːl

vrænged ad den andens Maal. mocked at the other’s language 2

mocked at the other’s language 2

vʁæŋ-ŋəð ˈˀæð dɛn ˈˀæn-nəns ˈmɔːl vrænged ad den andens Maal. mocked at the other’s language 2

ˈˀiɐ-mə-lin ˈʁoː-sə ˈˀiɐ-mə-lin ˈsoːl

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol,

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol, Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun,

Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun,

Irmelin Rose, Irmelin Sol, Irmelin the rose, Irmelin the sun,

ˈˀiɐ-məˈliːn ˈˀælt væð dæɐ ˀæɐ ˈdaɪ-lɪt

Irmelin Alt, hvad der er dejligt!

Irmelin all that which is wonderful!

ˈˀiɐ-məˈliːn ˈˀælt væð dæɐ ˀæɐ ˈdaɪ-lɪt

Irmelin Alt, hvad der er dejligt!

Irmelin all that which is wonderful!

1 the word “skat” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) treasure, b) tax, c) sweetheart

2 the word “maal” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) language, b) intention,

2 the word “maal” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) language, b) intention, c) size

1 the word “skat” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) treasure, b) tax, c) sweetheart

2 the word “maal” has three meanings in Danish of today: a) language, b) intention, c) size

Jens Peter Jacobsen (1847-1885)

FEM DIGTE No.5

HAR DAGEN SANKET AL SIN SORG

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Langsomt (Slow)

Carl Nielsen (1865-1931)

Opus 4 No.5

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

& & ?

b b b b b b b b b

Ó Œ . œ œj œ n Un ˈˀɔn der nɐ ligt lɪt ˙ œ ˙ œ . w . . . w w w g g g g g g con espress.

& & ? b b b b b b b b b

Stjer ˈstjæɐ

vif ˈvef te tə for fɒ

. œ J œ œ Rum ˈʁɔm mets məts kol ˈkɒl de lə

œ ˙ b œ . w . . . w w w molto cresc.

Jens Peter Jacobsen 1875? 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Har Dagen sanket al sin Sorg

When the day has gathered all its grief og grædt den ud i Dug, and let it out as tears of dew, saa aabner Natten Himlens Borg then the night opens the castle of heaven med evigt Tungsinds tavse Sorg. with the eternal silent grief of melancholy.

Og en for en

And one by one, og to og to and two by two gaa fjerne Verd’ners Genier frem the genii of distant worlds move forward af Himmeldybets dunkle Gjem. from the secret hiding-place of Heaven’s Gulf.

Og højt over Jordens Lyst og Elende

And high above earthly desire and despair med Stjernekjerter højt i Hænde with star candles high in hand skride de langsomt hen over Himlen. they slowly proceed across the sky.

De Fodtrin skifte

They change their gate med Sorg i Sinde. with grief in mind. Underligt vifte Strangely wave for Rummets kolde Vinde in the cold winds of heaven stjernekjerternes flakkende Flammer. the flickering flames of the star candles.

De Fodtrin skifte They change their gate med Sorg i Sinde. with grief in mind. Underligt vifte Strangely wave for Rummets kolde Vinde in the cold winds of heaven stjernekjerternes flakkende Flammer. the flickering flames of the star candles.

m af Himmeldybets dunkle Gem. from heaven’s gulf’s secret hiding-place.

ha ˈdæːˠ-ən ˈsaŋ-kət ˈˀæl sin ˈsɒːˠ

Har Dagen sanket al sin Sorg Has the day gathered all its grief

ˀɒʊ ˈgʁat dɛn ˈˀuːð ˀi ˈduk og grædt den ud i Dug, and wept it out in dew,

sɒ ˈˀɔːp-nɐ ˈnæt-tən ˈhem-ləns ˈbɒːˠ saa aabner Natten Himlens Borg then opens the night heaven’s castle

mɛð ˈˀeː-vɪt ˈtɔŋ-sens ˈtaʊ-sə ˈsɒːˠ med evigt Tungsinds tavse Sorg. with eternal melancholy’s silent grief.

ˀɒʊ ˈˀeːn fɒ ˈˀeːn

Og en for en And one by one

ˀɒʊ ˈtoː fɒ ˈtoː og to for to and two by two

gɔ ˈfjɛɐ-nə ˈ vɛɐt-nɐs ˈgeː-nɪ-ɐ ˈfʁæm gaa fjerne Verd’ners Genier frem move distant worlds’ genii forward

ˀæ ˈhem-məl-ˈdyː-bəts ˈdɔŋ-klə ˈgɛm af Himmeldybets dunkle Gem. from heaven’s gulf’s secret hiding-place.

ˀɒʊ ˈhɶɪt ˀɒ-vɐ ˈjoː-ʁəns ˈløst ˀɒʊ ˀe-ˈlɛn-nə

Og højt over Jordens Lyst og Elende And high above earth’s desire and despair mɛð ˈstjæɐ-nə

med Stjernekerter højt i Hænde with star candles high in hand

skride de langsomt hen over Himlen.

proceed they slowly over across the heaven.

Og højt over Jordens Lyst og Elende And high above earth’s desire and despair mɛð

stjæɐ

ɶɪ

i ˈhɛn-nə med Stjernekerter højt i Hænde with star candles high in hand ˈskʁiː-ðə di ˈ

-sɒmt ˈhɛn ˀɒ-vɐ ˈhem-lən skride de langsomt hen over Himlen. proceed they slowly over across the heaven.

di ˈfoð-tʁin ˈskif-tə De Fodtrin skifte these footsteps shift

mɛð ˈsɒːˠ ˀi ˈsen-nə med Sorg i Sinde. with grief in mind.

ˈˀɔn-nɐ-lɪt ˈvef-tə

Underligt vifte Strangely wave fɒ ˈʁɔm-məts ˈkɒl-lə ˈven-nə for Rummets kolde Vinde in the heaven’s cold winds

ˈstjæɐ-nəˈkæɐ-tɐ-nəs ˈflak-kən-nə ˈflam-mɐ

Stjernekjerternes flakkende Flammer. The starcandles’ flickering flames.

Ludvig Holstein (1864-1943)

SEKS SANGE No.1

ÆBLEBLOMST

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Carl Nielsen (1865-1931) Opus 10 No.1

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

ÆBLEBLOMST

APPLEBLOSSOM

Ludvig Holstein 1895 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Du fine, hvide Æbleblomst!

Hvem gav dig dette Lykkeskjær?

Ak, jeg er Solens Hjertenskjær!

Ak, Solens Hjertenskjær!

Hvor fik du denne Purpurglød,

You fine, white apple blossom!

Who gave you this shine of happiness?

Oh, I am the sun’s beloved!

Oh, the sun’s beloved!

Where did you get this purple glow, som brænder i din fine Hud? which makes your white skin burn?

Ak, jeg er Solens Foraarsbrud!

Ak, Solens Foraarsbrud!

Velsignet af min Brudgoms Kys

Oh, I am the sun’s spring bride!

Oh, the sun’s spring bride!

Blessed by the kiss of my bridegroom jeg lever i hans Aandedrag I live by his breath en kort, lyksalig Foraarsdag. for a short blissful day of spring.

Og naar hans sidste, varme Kys

And when his last warm kiss i Aftenrøden strejfer mig, touches me in the glow of the sunset, saa hvisker jeg: Jeg elsker dig! I whisper: I love you!

Og lukker mig og bøjer mig

And I close my blossom and bend over og drysser over Græsset ud and sprinkle over the grass mit hvide Flor, mit Bryllupsskrud my white blossoms, my bridal vesture

Jeg er Solens Hjertenskjær!

Ak, Solens Foraarsbrud!

I am the sun’s beloved!

Oh, the sun’s spring bride!

du ˈfiː-nə ˈviː-ðə ˈˀɛː-bləˌblɒmst

ˀɒ ˈnɒː hæns ˈsi-stə ˈvaː-mə ˈkøs

Du fine hvide Æbleblomst!

Og naar hans sidste varme Kys

Thou fine white appleblossom!

And when his last warm kiss

vɛm ˈgæːv daɪ ˈdɛt-tə ˈløk-kəˌskɛːɐ

hvem gav dig dette Lykkeskjær?

who gave you this touch of happiness?

ˀak ˈjaɪ ˀæɐ ˈsoː-ləns ˈjæɐ-təns-ˌkɛːɐ

Ak, jeg er Solens Hjertenskjær!

Oh, I am the sun’s beloved!

ˀak ˈsoː-ləns ˈjæɐ-təns-ˌkɛːɐ

ˀɒ ˈnɒː hæns ˈsi-stə ˈvaː-mə ˈkøs

Og naar hans sidste varme Kys

And when his last warm kiss

ˀi ˈˀaf-tən-ˌʁœː-ðən ˈstʁaɪ-fɐ ˈmaɪ i Aftenrøden strejfer mig in the sunset glow touches me

sɒ ˈve-skɐ ˈjaɪ jaɪ ˈˀɛl-skɐ ˈdaɪ

saa hvisker jeg: jeg elsker dig! then whisper I: I love you!

ˀi ˈˀaf-tən-ˌʁœː-ðən ˈstʁaɪ-fɐ ˈmaɪ i Aftenrøden strejfer mig in the sunset glow touches me

sɒ ˈve-skɐ ˈjaɪ jaɪ ˈˀɛl-skɐ ˈdaɪ

Ak, Solens Hjertenskjær!

Oh, the sun’s beloved!

saa hvisker jeg: jeg elsker dig! then whisper I: I love you!

ˀɒ ˈl k-kɐ ˈmaɪ ˀɒ ˈb :-jɐ ˈmaɪ Og lukker mig og bøjer mig

And close myself and bend myself

vɒ ˈfek du ˈdɛn-nə ˈpuɐ-puɐˌgløːð

Hvor fik du denne Purpurglød,

Where got you this crimson glow, (Where did you get this crimson glow)

Hvor fik du denne Purpurglød, Where got you this crimson glow, (Where did you get this crimson glow)

sɒm ˈbʁæn-nɐ ˀi din ˈfiː-nə ˈhuð

ˀɒ ˈl k-kɐ ˈmaɪ ˀɒ ˈb :-jɐ ˈmaɪ Og lukker mig og bøjer mig

And close myself and bend myself

som brænder i din fine Hud? which burns on your fine skin?

sɒm ˈbʁæn-nɐ ˀi din ˈfiː-nə ˈhuð som brænder i din fine Hud? which burns on your fine skin?

ˀak ˈjaɪ ˀæɐ ˈsoː-ləns ˈfɒː-ˀɒːs-ˌbʁuːð

Ak, jeg er Solens Foraarsbrud!

Oh, I am the sun’s spring bride!

ˀak ˈsoː-ləns ˈfɒː-ˀɒːs-ˌbʁuːð

Ak, Solens Foraarsbrud!

Oh, the sun’s spring bride!

vɛl-ˈsiːˠ-nət ˈˀæ min ˈbʁuð-gɒms ˈkøs

ˀɒ ˈdʁœs-sɐ ˈˀɒː-vɐ ˈgʁæs-sət ˈˀuːð og drysser over Græsset ud and sprinkle over the grass (out)

ˀɒ ˈdʁœs-sɐ ˈˀɒː-vɐ ˈgʁæs-sət ˈˀuːð og drysser over Græsset ud and sprinkle over the grass (out) mit ˈviː-ðə ˈfloːɐ mit ˈbʁœl-l ps-ˌskʁuːð mit hvide Flor, mit Bryllupsskrud my white blossoms, my bridal vesture

ˈjaɪ ˀæɐ ˈsoː-ləns ˈjæɐ-təns-ˌkɛːɐ Jeg er Solens Hjertenskjær!

I am the sun’s beloved!

mit ˈviː-ðə ˈfloːɐ mit ˈbʁœl-l ps-ˌskʁuːð mit hvide Flor, mit Bryllupsskrud my white blossoms, my bridal vesture

ˈjaɪ ˀæɐ ˈsoː-ləns ˈjæɐ-təns-ˌkɛːɐ Jeg er Solens Hjertenskjær!

ˀak ˈsoː-ləns ˈfɒː-ˀɒːs-ˌbʁuːð Ak, Solens Foraarsbrud!

I am the sun’s beloved!

Oh, the sun’s spring bride!

ˀak ˈsoː-ləns ˈfɒː-ˀɒːs-ˌbʁuːð Ak, Solens Foraarsbrud!

Oh, the sun’s spring bride!

vɛl-ˈsiːˠ-nət ˈˀæ min ˈbʁuð-gɒms ˈkøs Velsignet af min Brudgoms Kys

Velsignet af min Brudgoms Kys

vɛl-ˈsiːˠ-nət ˈˀæ min ˈbʁuð-gɒms ˈkøs Velsignet af min Brudgoms Kys

Blessed by my bridegroom’s kiss

jaɪ ˈleː-vɐ ˀi hæns ˈˀɒn-nəˌdʁaːˠ jeg lever i hans Aandedrag I live by his breath

Blessed by my bridegroom’s kiss jaɪ ˈleː-vɐ ˀi hæns ˈˀɒn-nəˌdʁaːˠ jeg lever i hans Aandedrag I live by his breath

ˀen ˈkɒːt løk-ˈsæː-lɪ ˈfɒː-ˀɒːs-ˌdæːˠ en kort lyksalig Foraarsdag. a short happy spring day.

Ludvig Holstein (1864-1943)

SEKS SANGE No.3

SOMMERSANG

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Carl Nielsen (1865-1931) Opus 10 No.3

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

poco rit. calando dim. poco rit. calando dim.

Fyldt med Blomster blusser

Filled with flowers flush

Æbletræets Gren. the branch of the apple tree.

Ludvig Holstein

Translation

1895 2023

Atter blaaner Himlen Again the sky becomes blue dyb og varm og ren. deep and warm and pure.

Over Markens Blommer

by Eva Hess Thaysen

Over the flowering field

Fyldt med Blomster blusser

brummer Humlebien, the bumblebee hums, honningtung og ør heavy with honey and dizzy Ak, saa blev det Sommer! Alas, it is summer!

Vandrer du langs Stien

Filled with flowers flush Æbletræets Gren. the branch of the apple tree. Atter blaaner Himlen

Do you wander along the path drømmende som før? dreamy as always?

Blomsters blide Dufte

The gentle fragrances of flowers bæres vidt om Vang. travel far over the meadow. Gøg fra fjerne Skove

Again the sky becomes blue dyb og varm og ren. deep and warm and pure. Over Markens Blommer Over the flowering field brummer Humlebien, the bumblebee hums, honningtung og ør heavy with honey and dizzy Ak, saa blev det Sommer! Alas, it is summer! Vandrer du langs Stien

Filled with flowers flush Æbletræets Gren. the branch of the apple tree. Atter blaaner Himlen Again the sky becomes blue dyb og varm og ren. deep and warm and pure. Over Markens Blommer Over the flowering field brummer Humlebien, the bumblebee hums, honningtung og ør heavy with honey and dizzy Ak, saa blev det Sommer! Alas, it is summer! Vandrer du langs Stien Do you wander along the path drømmende som før? dreamy as always?

The cuckoo from distant woods kukker Dagen lang. calls all day.

Do you wander along the path drømmende som før? dreamy as always?

Blomsters blide Dufte

The gentle fragrances of flowers bæres vidt om Vang. travel far over the meadow.

Gøg fra fjerne Skove

Hørte du i Dalen, Did you hear in the valley, hvor de klare Kilder where the limpid springs klinger gennem Krat, resound through the brush, Sang af Nattergalen, the song of the nightingale, lange Løb af Triller the long runs of trills i den lyse Nat? in the light night?

The cuckoo from distant woods kukker Dagen lang. calls all day.

Vestens Brise bruser

The breeze of the West rushes gennem Korn og Græs. through grain and grass. Slettelandets Bølger

The waves of the plains lover rige Læs. predict a rich crop.

Himlens milde Byger

Vestens Brise bruser

The breeze of the West rushes gennem Korn og Græs. through grain and grass.

Slettelandets Bølger

The breeze of the West rushes gennem Korn og Græs. through grain and grass. Slettelandets Bølger

The mild showers of the sky deres gyldne Grøde bring their golden growth bringer fjernt og nær far and near Blomsterstøvet ryger, The pollen fumes, dufter dig imøde1 and welcomes you with its scent over Rug, som drær. over the flowering rye.

Ak, saa blev det Sommer! Alas, it is summer!

Smægtende paany

Yearning anew

The waves of the plains lover rige Læs. predict a rich crop. Himlens milde Byger The mild showers of the sky deres gyldne Grøde bring their golden growth bringer fjernt og nær far and near Blomsterstøvet ryger, The pollen fumes, dufter dig imøde1 and welcomes you with its scent over Rug, som drær. over the flowering rye.

Ak, saa blev det Sommer!

Skønhedsdrømmen stiger the dream of beauty ascends op mod Himlens Sky. towards a cloud in the sky. Svanehvid den svømmer Swan-white it swims som et dejligt Smykke like a lovely jewel i det dybe Blaa in the deep blue Hele Jorden drømmer

Alas, it is summer! Smægtende paany Yearning anew

Alas, it is summer! Smægtende paany

The whole earth dreams om et Dyb af Lykke, of a profound happiness, som den ej kan naa. which it cannot reach.

Yearning anew Skønhedsdrømmen stiger the dream of beauty ascends op mod Himlens Sky. towards a cloud in the sky. Svanehvid den svømmer

1 L.Holstein: ”i Møde”

Swan-white it swims som et dejligt Smykke like a lovely jewel i det dybe Blaa in the deep blue

Hele Jorden drømmer

The whole earth dreams om et Dyb af Lykke, of a profound happiness, som den ej kan naa. which it cannot reach.

Smægtende paany

Skønhedsdrømmen stiger

the dream of beauty ascends op mod Himlens Sky. towards a cloud in the sky.

Ak, saa blev det Sommer! Alas then became it summer!

Svanehvid den svømmer

Swan-white it swims som et dejligt Smykke like a lovely jewel i det dybe Blaa in the deep blue

ˈvan-dʁɐ ˈdu laŋs ˈstiː-ən Vandrer du langs Stien

Wander you along the path

Hele Jorden drømmer

The whole earth dreams om et Dyb af Lykke, of a profound happiness, som den ej kan naa. which it cannot reach.

ˈdʁɶm-mən-nə sɒm ˈfɶɐ drømmende som før? dreamy like before?

1 L.Holstein: ”i Møde”

1 L.Holstein: ”i Møde” ˈfylt mɛð ˈblɒm-stɐ ˈblus-sɐ Fyldt med Blomster blusser

Filled with flowers flush

ˈˀɛː-bləˌtʁɛː-əts ˈgʁɛːn Æbletræets Gren. the appletree’s branch.

ˈˀæt-tɐ ˈblɔː-nɐ ˈhem-lən

Atter blaaner Himlen

Again becomes blue the sky

ˈdyːp ˀɒ ˈvaːm ˀɒ ˈʁɛːn dyb og varm og ren. deep and warm and pure.

ˈˀɒː-vɐ ˈmaː-kəns ˈblɒm-mɐ

Over Markens Blommer

Over the meadow’s flowers

ˈbʁɔm-mɐ ˈhɔm-ləˌbiː-ən brummer Humlebien, hums the bumblebee,

ˈhɒn-nɪŋˌtɔŋ ˀɒ ˈˀøːɐ honningtung og ør. heavy with honey and dizzy

ˈˀak sɒ ˈbleːv de ˈsɒm-mɐ Ak, saa blev det Sommer!

Alas then became it summer!

ˈvan-dʁɐ ˈdu laŋs ˈstiː-ən Vandrer du langs Stien

Wander you along the path

ˈdʁɶm-mən-nə sɒm ˈfɶɐ drømmende som før? dreamy like before?

ˈblɒm-stɐs ˈbliː-ðə ˈdɔf-tə Blomsters blide Dufte Flowers’ gentle scents

ˈbɛː-ʁəs ˈvit ˀɒm ˈvaŋ bæres vidt om Vang. are carried far over the meadow.

ˈgøːˠ fʁa ˈfjæɐ-nə ˈskɒː-və Gøg fra fjerne Skove

The cuckoo from distant woods

ˈkuk-kɐ ˈdæː-ˠən ˈlaŋ kukker Dagen lang. calls the day long.

ˈhøːɐ-tə ˈdu ˀi ˈdæː-lən Hørte du i Dalen, Heard you in the valley,

ˈ vɒː di ˈklaː-ʁə ˈkil-lɐ hvor de klare Kilder where the limpid springs

ˈkleŋ-ŋɐ ˈgɛn-nəm ˈkʁat klinger gennem Krat, resound through the brush,

ˈsaŋ ˀæ ˈnæt-tɐˌgæː-lən Sang af Nattergalen, song of the nightingale,

ˈlaŋ-ŋə ˈløːp ˀæ ˈtʁil-lɐ lange Løb af Triller long runs of trills

ˈˀi dɛn ˈlyː-sə ˈnæt i den lyse Nat? in the light night?

ˈ vɛ-stəns ˈbʁiː-sə ˈbʁuː-sɐ Vestens Brise bruser

West’s breeze rushes

ˈˀi dɛn ˈlyː-sə ˈnæt i den lyse Nat? in the light night?

ˈ vɛ-stəns ˈbʁiː-sə ˈbʁuː-sɐ Vestens Brise bruser

The West’s breeze rushes

ˈgɛn-nəm ˈkoɐn ˀɒ ˈgʁæs gennem Korn og Græs. through corn and grass.

ˈslɛt-təˌlæn-nəts ˈbøl-jɐ Slettelandets Bølger

The plain’s waves

ˈlɔː-vɐ ˈʁiː-ˠə ˈlɛs lover rige Læs. promise abundant loads.

ˈhem-ləns ˈmil-lə ˈbyː-ˠɐ Himlens milde Byger

The sky’s mild showers

ˈdɛː-ʁəs ˈgyl-nə ˈgʁœː-ðə deres gyldne Grøde their golden growth

ˈbʁɛŋ-ŋɐ ˈfjæɐnt ˀɒ ˈnɛːɐ bringer fjernt og nær. bring far and near.

ˈblɒm-stɐˌstøː-vət ˈʁyː-ˠɐ

Blomsterstøvet ryger, The pollen fumes,

ˈdɔf-tɐ ˈdaɪ ˀi-ˈmøː-ðə dufter dig imøde sheds fragrance you to meet

ˈˀɒː-vɐ ˈʁuːˠ sɒm ˈdʁɛːɐ over Rug, som drær. over the rye which flowers.

ˈˀak sɒ ˈbleːv de ˈsɒm-mɐ Ak, saa blev det Sommer! Alas then became it summer!

ˈsmɛk-tən-nə pɔˈnyː Smægtende paany

Yearning anew

ˈskœn-heðs-ˌdʁɶ

sheds fragrance you to meet

-vɐ ˈʁuːˠ sɒm ˈdʁɛːɐ

over Rug, som drær. over the rye which flowers.

ˈˀak sɒ ˈbleːv de ˈsɒm-mɐ

Ak, saa blev det Sommer! Alas then became it summer!

ˈsmɛk-tən-nə pɔˈnyː Smægtende paany Yearning anew

ˈskœn-heðs-ˌdʁɶm-mən ˈstiː-ˠɐ

Skønhedsdrømmen stiger the dream of beauty ascends

ˈˀɒp moð ˈhem-ləns ˈskyː op mod Himlens Sky. up towards the sky’s cloud.

ˈsvæː-nəˌviːð dɛn ˈsvœm-mɐ

Svanehvid den svømmer

Swan-white it swims

ˈsɒm ˀet ˈdaɪ-lɪt ˈsmøk-kə

som et dejligt Smykke like a lovely piece of jewelry

ˈˀi de ˈdyː-bə ˈblɔː i det dybe Blaa. in the deep blue

ˈheː-lə ˈjoː-ʁən ˈdʁɶm-mɐ

Hele Jorden drømmer

The whole earth dreams

ˈˀɒm ˀet ˈdyːp ˀæ ˈløk-kə

om et dyb af Lykke, of a gulf of happiness,

ˈsɒm dɛn ˈˀaɪ kæn ˈnɔː

som den ej kan naa. which it not can reach.

Ludvig Holstein (1864-1943)

SEKS SANGE No.5

I AFTEN

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Carl Nielsen (1865-1931) Opus 10 No.5

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

Ludvig Holstein 1895 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Det gyldenhvide Himmellys.

The golden-white celestial light. De tavse, sorte Skove.

The golden-white celestial light. De tavse, sorte Skove. The silent, dark woods. Og rundt i Havens Gange

In the paths of the garden

The silent, dark woods. Og rundt i Havens Gange

staar de stille Trær og sove.

Og Duggen daler kølig-mild

the quiet trees are sleeping

In the paths of the garden staar de stille Trær og sove. the quiet trees are sleeping Og Duggen daler kølig-mild

The dew is falling cool and mild og fugter Kind og Pande it dampens cheek and brow –

I Aften var det godt, min Sjæl,

This evening it would be good, my soul, at staa mod Dødens Strande! to go to the shores of death!

I Aften var det godt, min Sjæl,

Og svinde hen i stille Lys

And fade away in the quiet light og gylden Fred derinde and the golden peace within og dø deri befriet fra din Drøm and die therein - freed from your dream og fra dit Minde! and from your memory!

This evening it would be good, my soul, i Fald du kunde glide if you could glide paa blød og hastig Vingeflugt on a soft and rapid winged flight mod Lysets Hav, det hvide! towards the white sea of light! Og svinde hen i stille Lys And fade away in the quiet light og gylden Fred derinde and the golden peace within og dø deri befriet fra din Drøm and die therein - freed from your dream og fra dit Minde! and from your memory!

gyl-l

Det gyldenhvide Himmellys. De tavse, sorte Skove. The golden-white celestial light. The silent dark woods.

Og rundt i Havens Gange staar de stille Trær og sove. And round in the garden’s paths stand the quiet trees and sleep.

Og Duggen daler kølig-mild og fugter Kind og Pande And the dew is falling cool and mild and dampens cheek and brow

i Aften var det godt, min Sjæl, at staa mod Dødens Strande! this evening were it good my soul to go towards death’s shores! ˀi ˈˀaf-tən ˈva de ˈg

I Aften var det Godt, min Sjæl, i fald du kunne glide

This evening were it good my soul in case you could glide

paa blød og hastig Vingeflugt mod Lysets Hav, det Hvide! on soft and rapid winged flight towards light’s sea the white!

Og svinde hen i stille lys og gylden Fred derinde And fade away in quiet light and golden peace within

og dø deri befriet fra din Drøm og fra dit Minde! and die therein freed from your dream and from your memory!

Aage Berntsen (1885-1952) FYNSK FORÅR

DEN BLINDE SPILLEMAND

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Carl Nielsen (1865-1931) Opus 42

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

b b

Kog, grædt,

Jeg

Aage Berntsen

THE BLIND MINSTREL

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

1923 2023]

Nu kysser Solen mit Øjelaag,

Now the sun kisses my eyelid, og Luften syder som Vand i Kog, and the air seethes like water at a boil, jeg aander fugtige Markers Lugt, I breathe the smell of damp fields, nu er vist Alting kulørt og smukt. now I believe everything is colored and beautiful.

Jeg famler frem med forsigtig Fod,

Jeg famler frem med forsigtig Fod, I walk forward with cautious step, for ej at snuble mod Sten og Rod. in order not to stumble against stone and root.

I walk forward with cautious step, for ej at snuble mod Sten og Rod. in order not to stumble against stone and root.

Jeg hører Lyde saa langvejs fra:

I hear sounds from afar: en Ko, der brøler i Degnens Ma. a cow is roaring in the clerk’s field.

I Lommen har jeg min Klarinet,

In the pocket I have my clarinet, min bedste Trøster, naar jeg har grædt; my best comfort, when I have wept, den gemmer Viser i Hobetal it holds a great number of ballads bag kolde Klapper af glat Metal. behind the cold valves of smooth metal.

Og Smaabørn danser, hvorhen jeg gaar,

Og Smaabørn danser, hvorhen jeg gaar, And little children dance wherever I walk, med varme Kinder og Silkehaar; with warm cheeks and silky hair; smaa Hænder søger min gamle Haand, their little hands find my old hand, det er, som rørte jeg Vaarens Aand. it is, as if I touched the spirit of spring.

And little children dance wherever I walk, med varme Kinder og Silkehaar; with warm cheeks and silky hair; smaa Hænder søger min gamle Haand, their little hands find my old hand, det er, som rørte jeg Vaarens Aand. it is, as if I touched the spirit of spring.

nu køs-sɐ ˈsoː-lən mit ˈˀɶ-jə-lɔːˠ

nu køs-sɐ ˈsoː-lən mit ˈˀɶ-jə

Nu kysser Solen mit Øjelaag, Now kisses the sun my eyelid,

Nu kysser Solen mit Øjelaag, Now kisses the sun my eyelid, ˀɒʊ lɔf-tən ˈsyː-ðɐ sɒm

ˀɒʊ lɔf-tən ˈsyː-ðɐ sɒm ˈvæn ˀi ˈkɔːˠ og Luften syder som Vand i kog, and the air seethes like water at a boil,

og Luften syder som Vand i kog, and the air seethes like water at a boil,

jaɪ ˀɒn-nɐ ˈfɔk-tɪ-ə ˈmaː-kɐs ˈlɔkt

jeg aander fugtige Markers Lugt, I breathe damp fields’ smell,

ɪ ˀɒn-nɐ ˈfɔk-tɪ-ə ˈmaː-kɐs ˈlɔkt jeg aander fugtige Markers Lugt, I breathe damp fields’ smell,

nu ˀæɐ vest ˈˀæl-teŋ ku-ˈløːɐt ˀɒʊ ˈsmɔkt nu er vist Alting kulørt og smukt. now is I take it everything colored and beautiful.

jaɪ fam-lɐ ˈfʁæm mɛð fɒˈsek-tɪ ˈfoːð

Jeg famler frem med forsigtig Fod, I grope forward with tentative step,

fɒ ˀaɪ ˀæt ˈsnub-lə moð ˈsteːn

jaɪ fam-lɐ ˈfʁæm mɛð fɒˈsek-tɪ ˈfoːð Jeg famler frem med forsigtig Fod, I grope forward with tentative step, fɒ ˀaɪ ˀæt ˈsnub-lə moð ˈsteːn ˀɒʊ ˈʁoːð for ej at mod Sten og Rod. in order not to stumble against stone and root.

for ej at snuble mod Sten og Rod. in order not to stumble against stone and root. jaɪ høː-ʁɐ ˈlyː-ðə sɒ ˈla

jaɪ fam-lɐ ˈfʁæm mɛð f

Jeg famler frem med forsigtig Fod, I grope forward with tentative step, fɒ ˀaɪ ˀæt ˈsnub-lə moð ˈsteːn ˀɒʊ ˈʁoːð for ej at snuble mod Sten og Rod. in order not to stumble against stone and root.

fɒ ˀaɪ ˀæt ˈsnub-lə moð ˈsteːn ˀɒʊ ˈʁoːð for ej at snuble mod Sten og Rod. in order not to stumble against stone and root.

jaɪ høː-ʁɐ ˈlyː-ðə sɒ ˈlaŋ-vaɪs ˈ

jaɪ høː-ʁɐ ˈlyː-ðə sɒ ˈlaŋ-vaɪs ˈfʁaː Jeg hører Lyde saa langvejs fra: I hear sounds so afar from:

ʁaː Jeg hører Lyde saa langvejs fra: I hear sounds so afar from:

ˀen ˈkoː dæɐ ˈbʁœː-lɐ ˀi ˈdaɪ-nəns ˈmæː en Ko, der brøler i Degnens Ma. a cow, which roars in the clerk’s field.

en Ko, der brøler i Degnens Ma. a cow, which roars in the clerk’s field.

ˀI lɒm-mən ˈhaː jaɪ min kla-ʁi-ˈnɛt I Lommen har jeg min Klarinet, In the pocket have I my clarinet,

min bɛ-stə ˈtʁœ-stɐ nɒ ˈjaɪ ha ˈgʁæt min bedste Trøster, naar jeg har grædt, my best comfort, when I have cried,

ˀI lɒm-mən ˈhaː jaɪ min kla-ʁi-ˈnɛt I Lommen har jeg min Klarinet, In the pocket have I my clarinet, min bɛ-stə ˈtʁœ-stɐ nɒ ˈjaɪ ha ˈgʁæt min bedste Trøster, naar jeg har grædt, my best comfort, when I have cried, dɛn gɛm-mɐ ˈviː-sɐ ˀi ˈhoː-bə-tæl den gemmer Viser i Hobetal it hides ballads in great numbers

dɛn gɛm-mɐ ˈviː-sɐ ˀi ˈhoː-bə-tæl den gemmer Viser i Hobetal it hides ballads in great numbers

bæːˠ kɒl-lə ˈklap-pɐ ˀæ ˈglæt me-ˈtæl bag kolde Klapper af glat Metal. behind cold valves of smooth metal.

ˀɒʊ smɒ-bɶɐn ˈdæn-sɐ vɒˈhɛn jaɪ ˈgɒː Og Smaabørn danser, hvorhen jeg gaar, And little children dance whereever I walk, mɛð ˈvaː-mə ˈken-nɐ ˀɒʊ ˈsel-kə-hɒː med varme Kinder og Silkehaar; with warm cheeks and silky hair;

smɔː ˈhɛn-nɐ ˈsøː-ˠɐ min ˈgam-lə ˈhɒn smaa Hænder søger min gamle Haand, little hands seek my old hand, de ˈˀæɐ sɒm ˈʁɶɐ-tə jaɪ ˈ vɒː-ʁəns ˈˀɒn det er, som rørte jeg Vaarens Aand. it is, as if touched I the spring’s spirit.

Aage Berntsen (1885-1952)

FYNSK FORÅR

DEN MILDE DAG ER LYS OG LANG

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Carl Nielsen (1865-1931) Opus 42 Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

sang, Aand,

mig Kat

det der Il

ger Fug e ˈˀa:

ban sel ˈsɛl ˈken ˈbaŋ den ge, ve və nən ŋə

Aage Berntsen

THE MILD DAY IS BRIGHT AND LONG

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

1923 2023

Den milde Dag er lys og lang

The mild day is bright and long og fuld af Sol og Fuglesang, and full of sun and birdsong, og alt er saamænd ganske godt, and everything will be very good, naar blot, naar blot, naar blot, if only, if only, if only, naar blot vor Nabos Ilsebil if only our neighbour’s daughter Ilsebil vil det, som jeg saa gerne vil will want that which I want so much, vil lægge Kinden mod min Kind will want to lay her cheek against my cheek med samme varme Sind, with the same warm feeling as me,

vil række mig sin lille Haand

will want to give me her little hand med samme redebonne Aand, with the same willing spirit, vil lukke Øjet som til Blund will close her eyes as if to nap og give mig sin Mund! and give me her mouth!

vil række mig sin lille Haand will want to give me her little hand med samme redebonne Aand, with the same willing spirit, vil lukke Øjet som til Blund will close her eyes as if to nap og give mig sin Mund! and give me her mouth!

Ja, Dagen den er lys og lang, Yes, the day is bright and long, og der er nok af Fuglesang, and there is plenty of birdsong, men jeg er bange, Ilsebil but I am afraid that Ilsebil vil ikke det, jeg vil! does not want that which I want!

Bag Hækken kommer Ilsebil – Ilsebil comes from behind the hedgemon det er mig, hun smiler til? I wonder if her smile is for me?

Hun bærer Mælk i klinket Fad

Hun bærer Mælk i klinket Fad She carries milk in a mended bowl og giver Katten Mad. and feeds the cat.

She carries milk in a mended bowl og giver Katten Mad. and feeds the cat.

Aa se, nu smiler hun igen, O look, now she smiles again min Ilsebil, min egen Ven – my Ilsebil, my dear –det er, som selve Solens Skin it is, as if the sun’s rays faldt i mit Hjerte ind. shone into my heart.

dɛn ˈmil-lə ˈdæːˠ ˀæɐ ˈlyːs ˀɒ ˈlaŋ

Den milde Dag er lys og lang

The mild day is bright and long ˀɒ ˈful ˀæ ˈsoːl ˀɒ ˈfuː-lə

og fuld af Sol og Fuglesang, and full of sun and bird song,

ˈˀælt ˀæɐ ˈsɒ-mɛn ˈgæn-skə ˈgɒt og alt er saamænd ganske godt, and everything will be indeed quite good,

naar blot, naar blot, naar blot, if only, if only, if only,

naar blot vor Nabos Ilsebil if only our neighboor’s (daughter) Ilsebil

naar blot, naar blot, naar blot, if only, if only, if only,

nɒ ˈbl

naar blot, naar blot, naar blot, if only, if only, if only,

nɒ ˈblɒt vɒ ˈnæː-bos ˈˀil-səˌbil naar blot vor Nabos Ilsebil if only our neighboor’s (daughter) Ilsebil

nɒ ˈblɒt vɒ ˈnæː-bos ˈˀil-səˌbil

naar blot vor Nabos Ilsebil if only our neighboor’s (daughter) Ilsebil

vel ˈde sɒm ˈjaɪ sɒ ˈgæɐ-nə ˈvel vil det, som jeg saa gerne vil will want that, which I so much want

vel ˈlɛk-kə ˈken-nən ˈmoð min ˈken vil lægge Kinden mod min Kind will want to lay (her) cheek against my cheek

vel ˈlɛk-kə ˈken-nən ˈmoð min ˈken

vil lægge Kinden mod min Kind will want to lay (her) cheek against my cheek

mɛð ˈsam-mə ˈvaː-mə ˈsen med samme varme Sind, with the same warm mood,

vel ˈʁæk-kə ˈmaɪ sin ˈlil-lə ˈhɒn vil række mig sin lille Haand will want to give me her little hand

mɛð ˈsam-mə ˈʁɛː-ðəˌbɒn-nə ˈˀɒn med samme redebonne Aand, with the same willing spirit,

vel ˈlɔk-kə ˈˀɶ:-jət ˈsɒm tel ˈblɔn vil lukke Øjet som til Blund will close the eye as if to nap

ˀɒ ˈgiː-və ˈmaɪ sin ˈmɔn og give mig sin Mund! and give me her mouth!

Jæ ˈdæː-ˠən ˈdɛn ˀæɐ ˈlyːs ˀɒ ˈlaŋ Ja, Dagen den er lys og lang, Yes, the day it is bright and long,

ˀɒ ˈdɛːɐ ˀæɐ ˈnɒk ˀæ ˈfuː-ləˌsaŋ og der er nok af Fuglesang, and there is plenty of bird song,

mɛn ˈjaɪ ˀæɐ ˈbaŋ-ŋə ˈˀil-səˌbil men jeg er bange, Ilsebil but I am afraid, Ilsebil

vel ˈˀek-kə ˈde jaɪ ˈvel vil ikke det, jeg vil! wants not that (which) I want!

og der er nok af Fuglesang, and there is plenty of bird song,

mɛn ˈjaɪ ˀæɐ ˈbaŋ-ŋə ˈˀil-səˌbil men jeg er bange, Ilsebil but I am afraid, Ilsebil

mɛn ˈjaɪ ˀæɐ ˈbaŋ-ŋə ˈˀil-səˌbil

men jeg er bange, Ilsebil but I am afraid, Ilsebil

vel ˈˀek-kə ˈde jaɪ ˈvel vil ikke det, jeg vil! wants not that (which) I want!

bæːˠ ˈhɛk-kən ˈkɒm-mɐ ˈˀil-səˌbil

Bag Hækken kommer Ilsebil –Behind the hedge comes Ilsebil

bæːˠ ˈhɛk-kən ˈkɒm-mɐ ˈˀil-səˌbil

Bag Hækken kommer Ilsebil –Behind the hedge comes Ilsebil

mɔn ˈde ˀæɐ ˈmaɪ hun ˈsmiː-lɐ ˈtel

mon det er mig, hun smiler til? (I) wonder if it is me, she is smiling at?

mɔn ˈde ˀæɐ ˈmaɪ hun ˈsmiː-lɐ ˈtel

hun ˈbɛː-ʁɐ ˈmɛlk ˀi ˈkleŋ-kət ˈfæð

mon det er mig, hun smiler til? (I) wonder if it is me, she is smiling at?

Hun bærer Mælk i klinket Fad

She carries milk in (a) mended dish

hun ˈbɛː-ʁɐ ˈmɛlk ˀi ˈkleŋ-kət ˈfæð

Hun bærer Mælk i klinket Fad

She carries milk in (a) mended dish

ˀɒ ˈgiː-vɐ ˈkæt-tən ˈmæð og giver Katten Mad. and gives the cat food.

ˀɔː ˈseː nu ˈsmiː-lɐ hun ˀi-ˈgɛn

Aa se, nu smiler hun igen, O see, now smiles she again

ˀɔː ˈseː nu ˈsmiː-lɐ hun ˀi-ˈgɛn Aa se, nu smiler hun igen, O see, now smiles she again

min ˈˀil-səˌbil min ˈˀa:-jən ˈ vɛn min Ilsebil, min egen Ven –my Ilsebil, my own friend

de ˈˀæɐ sɒm ˈsɛl-və ˈsoː-ləns ˈsken det er, som selve Solens Skin it is, as if even the sun’s rays

fælt ˈˀi mit ˈjæɐ-tə ˈˀen faldt i mit Hjerte ind. fell into my heart in. (shone into my heart)

Tekla Griebel Wandall

”O glem det ej” from ”Tre Sange” (1928-29) Autograph

GRIEBEL WANDALL

1866-1940

– the musical talent with the duties of a man and the rights of a woman

You would have to look hard to find a more dynamic figure: Tekla Griebel Wandall was the daughter of a Tivoli Gardens musician and a teacher. She cultivated her own creative side with studies at the Drawing School for Women on H.C. Andersens Boulevard and private singing lessons, and when, at the age of 19, she first heard an opera, she made a firm decision to pursue the life of a composer – which for women of her generation meant a very difficult life.

At first, her prospects looked good. In 1888, she was admitted to the Academy on a scholarship. She also found work as a singer and accompanist, including for soloists at the Royal Danish Theatre.

However, the early death of her mother in 1891 proved a serious obstacle, and Tekla had to support her father as a private teacher of singing and piano. In 1895 alone, she wrote a ballet called I rosentiden (‘In the Time of the Rose’) and the guide Musikalsk Børnehave (‘Musical Kindergarten’) in between these duties.

What’s more, her love life simply refused to go smoothly. For a long time she was in love with a married man, and when in 1900 she found her own husband, he was unfortunately a penniless theologian and writer – so now she also had to support him on top of everything else.

With time, things began to look up a little. For example, she had never managed to learn the proper use of the orchestra’s instruments, until that challenge was solved with a stay with the best teacher of the day in Dresden, with the help of money from a wealthy female friend.

Her husband’s death in 1917 also gave her more time to be creative. Tekla Griebel Wandall composed both a cantata to mark the reunification of Denmark in 1920 and a never-performed opera entitled Kong Hroars skjalde (‘The Bards of King Hroar’) five years later. Before long, she had also joinedw the growing women’s movement, writing a novel calling for more women in the workforce and more men at home in the kitchen.

The five songs from around 1893 were published by Henrik Hennings, who for many years was one of her biggest fans and most dedicated supporters. The opera Skjøn Karen (‘Lovely Karen’) from 1894 with text by Einar Christiansen – the later librettist behind Carl Nielsen’s Saul og David – was written at the request of Hennings.

Tekla Griebel Wandall knew her own worth. One day, the world would not care about her gender. “But by then she’ll be dead,” she wrote of herself to a friend.

Jens Peter Jacobsen (1847-1885)

FEM SANGE No.3

DET BØDES DER FOR

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Tekla Griebel-Wandall (1866-1940)

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

DET BØDES DER FOR

IT WILL BE PUNISHED

Jens Peter Jacobsen 1875 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Det bødes der for i lange Aar,

Det bødes der for i lange Aar, It will be punished for many long years, som kun var en stakket Glæde; that which was only a brief joy;1 det smiler man frem i flygtig Stund, you smile at it in a fleeting moment, man bort kan i Aar ej græde. that which you cannot weep away in years.

Der rinder Sorg, rinder Harm af Roser røde.

It will be punished for many long years, som kun var en stakket Glæde; that which was only a brief joy;1 det smiler man frem i flygtig Stund, you smile at it in a fleeting moment, man bort kan i Aar ej græde. that which you cannot weep away in years. Der rinder Sorg, rinder Harm af Roser røde.

Sorrow flows, wrath flows from roses red.

Der rinder Sorg, rinder Harm af Roser røde. Sorrow flows, wrath flows from roses red.

Ej Smilet vil lyse din Dag i Seng,

The smile will not follow your day to bed men Taaren har gode Stunder; but the tear has good moments; thi Smil er Glands kun af det, der er, for smiles are only a reflection of that which is, graad Skyggen af det, der gik under. tears the shadow of that which disappeared. Der rinder Sorg, rinder Harm af Roser røde. Sorrow flows, wrath flows from roses red.

Ej Smilet vil lyse din Dag i Seng,

Der rinder Sorg, rinder Harm af Roser røde.

Sorrow flows, wrath flows from roses red.

Der rinder Sorg, rinder Harm af Roser røde. Sorrow flows, wrath flows from roses red.

1 ”Det bødes der for i lange Aar, som kun var en stakket Glæde” means the same as: “A moment of pleasure, an age of pain”

de ˈbøː-ðəs dɛɐ ˈfɒ ˀi ˈlaŋ-ŋə ˈˀɒː

Det bødes der for i lange Aar It punished will be in long years

sɒm ˈkɔn va ˀen ˈstak-kət ˈglɛː-ðə

som kun var en stakket Glæde; (that) which only was a brief joy;

de ˈsmiː-lɐ mæn ˈfʁæm ˀi ˀen ˈfløk-tɪ ˈstɔn

det smiler man frem i en flygtig Stund, the smile you bring forth in a fleeting moment

mæn ˈbɒːt kæn ˀi ˈˀɒː

aɪ ˈgʁɛː-ðə

man bort kan i Aar ej græde.

you away can in years not weep dæɐ ʁɛn-nɐ

Der rinder Sorg, rinder Harm af Roser røde. There flows sorrow, flows wrath from roses red.

ˀaɪ ˈsmiː-lət vel ˈlyː-s

din

ɛŋ Ej Smilet vil lyse din Dag i Seng, Not the smile will light your day to bed

mɛn ˈtɒː-ʁən ha ˈgoː-ðə ˈstɔn-nɐ men Taaren har gode Stunder; but the tear has good moments; ti ˈsmiːl ˀæɐ ˈglæns k

æɐ thi Smil er Glands kun af det, der er, for the smile is (a) reflection only of that which is, ˈgʁɔːð ˈskyk-kən ˀæ ˈde dɛɐ gik ˈˀɔn-nɐ Graad Skyggen af det, der gik under. the tear the shadow of that which went under d

Der rinder Sorg, rinder Harm af Roser røde. There flows sorrow, flows wrath from roses red.

Jens Peter Jacobsen (1847-1885)

FEM SANGE No.4

STEMNING

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Tekla Griebel-Wandall (1866-1940)

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

SENTIMENT STEMNING

Jens Peter Jacobsen September 1868 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Alle de voksende Skygger

All the growing shadows har vævet sig sammen til en, have woven themselves into one, ensom på Himmelen lyser lonely in the sky shines en Stjærne saa straalende ren, a star so radiant and pure, Skyerne have saa tunge Drømme, the clouds have such sad dreams Blomsternes Øjne i Duggraad svømme, the flower buds swim in tears of dew, underligt Aftenvinden strangely the evening wind suser i Linden. whispers in the linden tree.

ˈˀæl-lə di ˈ vɒk-sə-nə ˈskyk-kɐ

Alle de voksende Skygger All the growing shadows ha ˈ vɛː-vət saɪ ˈsam-mən tel

en har vævet sig sammen til en, have woven themselves together into one,

ˈˀeːn-sɒm pɔ ˈhem-mə-lən ˈlyː-sɐ ensom paa Himmelen lyser lonely in the sky shines

ˀen ˈstjæɐ-nə sɒ ˈstʁɔː-lən-nə ˈʁɛːn en Stjærne saa straalende ren, a star so radiantly pure,

ˈskyː-ɐ-nə ˈhæː-və sɒ ˈtɔŋ-ŋə ˈdʁɶm-mə Skyerne have saa tunge Drømme, the clouds have such heavy dreams

ˈblɒm-stɐ-nəs ˈɶɪ-nə ˀi ˈduk-gʁɔːð ˈsvœm-mə Blomsternes Øjne i Duggraad svømme, the flowers’ eyes in tears of dew swim

ˈˀɔn-nɐ-lɪt ˈˀaf-tən-ˈven-nən underligt Aftenvinden strangely the evening wind

ˈsuː-sɐ ˀi ˈlen-nən suser i Linden. whispers in the linden tree

Jens Peter Jacobsen (1847-1885)

FEM SANGE No.5

GENREBILLEDE

IPA by Eva Hess Thaysen & Ruben Schachtenhaufen

Tekla Griebel-Wandall (1866-1940)

Edited by Christen Stubbe Teglbjaerg

Jens Peter Jacobsen 1875? 2023

Translation by Eva Hess Thaysen

Pagen højt paa Taarnet sad,

The page sat high in the tower stirred’ ud saa vide, and gazed into the distance, digted paa et Elskovskvad writing on a love poem om sin Elskovskvide, about his pangs of love, kunde ikke faa det samlet, he could not get it together, sad og famled’ he sat and faltered nu med Stjærner, nu med Roser with stars and with roses intet rimed’ sig paa Roser nothing would rhyme with roses satte fortvivlet saa Hornet for Mund, then in desperation he put the horn to his lips, knugede vredt sit Værge,1 angrily squeezing his weapon,1 blæste saa2 sin Elskov ud and thus2 blew out his love over alle Bjærge. beyond all mountains.

satte fortvivlet saa Hornet for Mund, then in desperation he put the horn to his lips, knugede vredt sit Værge,1 angrily squeezing his weapon,1 blæste saa2 sin Elskov ud and thus2 blew out his love over alle Bjærge. beyond all mountains.

1 ”værge”: ”våben” eller ”skjold”

2 ”saa”: ”således” eller ”så”

1 ”værge”: ”wepon” or ”shield”

1 ”værge”: ”våben” eller ”skjold” 1 ”værge”: ”wepon” or ”shield” 2 ”saa”: ”således” eller ”så” 2 ”saa”: ”thus” or ”then”

2 ”saa”: ”thus” or ”then”

Vignete to J. P. Jacobsens Poem, ”Pagen højt paa Taarnet sad” by F. Hendriksen

ˈpæː-ɕən ˈhɶɪt pɔ ˈtɒː-nət ˈsæːð

Pagen højt paa Taarnet sad, The page high in the tower sat,

ˈstiɐ-ʁəð ˈˀuːð sɒ ˈviː-ðə stirred’ ud saa vide, gazed out so far,

ˈdek-təð pɔ ˀet ˈˀɛl-skɒʊˈkvæð digted paa et Elskovskvad writing on a love poem

ˈˀɒm sin ˈˀɛl-skɒʊs-ˈkviː-ðə om sin Elskovskvide, about his pangs of love,

ˈkun-nə ˈˀek-kə ˈfɔː de ˈsam-lət kunde ikke faa det samlet, could not get it together,

ˈsæːð ˀɒʊ ˈfam-ləð sad og famled’ sat and faltered

ˈnu mɛð ˈstjæɐ-nɐ ˈnu mɛð ˈʁoː-sɐ nu med Stjærner, nu med Roser now with stars now with roses –

ˈˀen-tət ˈʁiː-məð ˈsaɪ pɔ ˈʁoː-sɐ Intet rimed’ sig paa Roser — nothing would rhyme itself with roses –

ˈsæt-tə fɒˈtviʊ-lət sɒ ˈhoɐ-nət fɒ ˈmɔn satte fortvivlet saa Hornet for Mund, put in desperation then the horn to his lips,

ˈknuː-ˠə-ðə ˈ vʁɛt sit ˈvæɐ-ˠə knugede vredt sit Værge, squeezing angrily his weapon,

ˈblɛː-stə sɒ sin ˈˀɛl-skɒʊ ˈˀuːð blæste saa sin Elskov ud blew thus his love out

ˀɒ-vɐ ˈˀæl-lə ˈbjæɐ-ˠə over alle Bjerge. beyond all the mountains.

REFERENCES

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