Sigurboði (Nordic Folk – Iceland) released a beautiful new music video for Gróttasöngr, a song from his debut album, Kvæðamaðr.
The singer and multi-instrumentalist Sigurboði Grétarsson is famous for his many collaborations with Nordic Folk musicians like Danheim, Heldom, Munknörr, Vévaki, Ursprung and Rúnfell. Now he comes with his first music video, showing the beautiful landscapes of Iceland.
He talked a bit about the meaning behind the song.
“‘Gróttasöngr’ is the last eddic poem and my favourite. ‘Gróttasöngr’ is the work song of two female slave trolls Fenja and Menja bought in Sweden by the Danish King Fróði. The girls are brought to a magic grindstone to grind out wealth for the king and sing for his household.
The girls ask for rest from the grinding but are commanded to continue. They sang a song which reached their Uncle Mysingr.
Mysingr kills Fróði but now demands them to grind salt. They grind so much salt for him that his ship is filled to the brim which then sinks, which is the reason the sea is salty.”
Kvæðamaðr was released on August 1st and is available in digital format.
See also: Sigurboði Grétarsson unveils ‘Kvæðamaðr’
Lyrics – Gróttasöngr
Sofið eigi
en of sal gaukar
eða lengr en svá
ljóð eitt kveðak.
Var-at-tu, Fróði,
fullspakr of þik,
málvinr manna,
er þú man keyptir;
kaustu at afli
ok at álitum,
en at ætterni
ekki spurðir
Harðr var Hrungnir
ok hans faðir,
þó var Þjazi
þeim öflgari;
Iði ok Aurnir,
okkrir niðjar,
bræðr bergrisa,
þeim erum bornar.
Veltum grjóti
of garð risa,
svá at fold fyrir
fór skjalfandi;
svá slöngðum vit
snúðga-steini,
höfga-halli,
at halir tóku.
Fram heldum því
þau misseri,
at vit at köppum
kenndar várum;
þar sorðu vit
skörpum geirum
blóð ór benjum
ok brand ruðum.
Nú erum komnar
til konungs húsa
miskunnlausar
ok at mani hafðar;
aurr etr iljar,
en ofan kulði,
drögum dolgs sjötul,
daprt er at Fróða.
English Translation by Henry Adams Bellows
Sleep ye not longer than the gowks round
the house, or than while one song I sing
Thou wast not, Fróði for thyself over-wise,
or a friend of men, when thralls thou boughtest;
for strength thou chosest them, and for their looks,
but of their race didst not inquire.
Stout was Hrungnir, and his father,
yet was Þjassi stronger than they ;
Iði and Aurnir our relations are,
brothers of the mountain-giants from whom we are born.
We rolled the stone o’er the giants’ house,
so that earth thereby shrank trembling;
so hurled we the whirling rock,
that men could take it.
Thus we went on all those winters,
so that in conflicts we were known;
there we carved, with our sharp spears,
blood from wounds, and reddened brands.
Now are we come to a king’s house, unpitied both,
and in thraldom held; gravel gnaws our feet,
and above ’tis cold; a foe’s host we draw.
Sad ’tis at Fróði’s!
Credits
Recorded and Edited by Joel Wxhoever and Mustafa Kücük
Links
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