Brides of Midsummer
Publication Year: 2014
Published by: Minnesota Historical Society Press
Title Page, Copyright Page
I am water. I am the beginning. I was before the oaks, the grass, and the flowers. I was before the beasts that graze the grass. I was before hovering wing and scurrying foot. I was before the birds, the bees, and the bumblebees. I was before sorrow and gladness. I was before the tears and the...
Every Midsummer’s Eve, I play my fiddle on the hill where the oak tree stands and where the villagers have raised their pole to see Midsummer’s Day in. My place is inside this old hollow oak, where a board has been nailed up to serve as a seat for the spelman. Here...
So you’ve returned to me, Anders Eriksson, old spelman! Here with me, you shall remain. You have become one of the rested. Did you handle yourself well or poorly while in the world? Were you a good and decent sort or brutish and evil? Were you...
I pick up my music-maker and lay it on my knee. I call on my lira, and she responds to me still. I stroke my strings with the horse-hair and ask them: “Have ye voice still?” Their answer is clear and strong: “We have voice still.” Last year, I sat on this hill on Midsummer’s Eve, and this my lira...
Welcome, Anders, Erik’s son! So, you have come to me with your soot-black tongue, your stifled bosom, your festering buboes, your infected body. There, in my waters, you sought the cure. You trusted in me; and I did not fail...
Thus, I find myself the only one left here on the hill. It is the bright time of night. God’s pipes are sounding from bush and branch. I pull out my own pipe to join in their playing. Blossoms glow around me in the meadow. Here shines thyme...
Thus, you must relinquish the world above under the sky. Thus, you sink down into me, weighed down by your own body. Into my depth falls silver and gold. Thus, you have come back to me, Piper Anders, bringing your spoil with you. You thought that you would be allowed to bring your spoil to...
He stands erected at the top of the hill right in our midst. He is freshly blood-stained and still drips like a sapping birch tree. The robe that covers his body gleams red in the light from our bonfires. In the gloom, he seems to grow before us and rises high under the...
Yes, this is how you returned to me, Buckhorn, the oldest and the youngest of the spelmen. This is how it came to pass that the maiden was given to me, pure and untouched. It was she and none other that gave me my full power; this power shall I use for...
We at the Watch
Publication Year: 2014
MUSE Marc Record: Download for Brides of Midsummer