Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Lingam Lord (Freysgaldur)

Lingam Lord, Lover of all
Fruit and flowers flow from your
Expanding power of precious sap
Rising, rearing from roots upward.
Free and fertile and full of mirth
Bringing bounty of billowing growth;
You sow the seeds of smiles for us
for unbound, unchained, unleashed
You make us, o maker of mighty freedom.
From fetters you free, and fruit you share,
And jumping for joy, you jolly teach us
To farm our fields with fertile mirth
For pleasure's power is priceless gold
You share out surely, shameless lover!
From youth, O Yule-lord, you were cherished
Held and hallowed, happy child.
When winter walked into your wardroom,
Speaking spells of spirit's loss,
All hope once had in horrid peril,
You lived on, loyal to life's deep root
And rose again, rising, with regal pride
Bringing bane to Beli's terror ;
Your laughter's luck longer than winter's :
In spring you sprang up spry and merry
Sat on the seat and saw a prize --
A beauty barred up in barren lands.
You brought her back to bring her joy,
For love will loosen locks and bonds
That keep us captured, caught in fear.
Birds and bees, blossoms and sproutings,
Pears and plums, peaches and apples,
Roses and rivulets, ripples of bliss,
Barley and beer-froth bursting in horn
You brought your bride with bounty's gift,
Unfreezing the frozen fields of love.
Thaw, thaw, thaw out the frost
That keeps hearts cold and keeps them lonely.
Dancing and drinking the deepest springs
Of life's luscious, lyrical awe
You wish us, worldly, wonder-lord!
When we were woe-filled, wane and thralled,
Beaten-down, bound, by beastly tyrants
You saw our souls in soulless bondage
And came to us calling back courage to live
To fight for our freedom in frithguilds of strength.
Dancers, dervishes, dear pacts of joy
You taught us and trained us to take back our might
With the main of mirth and the might of frith
Like grass and grain, growing back from the scythe,
Then rising up, rising up, rearing our glory
You shamelessly shined and shared out the gold.
O Frithful Frodi, Festival Lord
Holder of Happy Holy Days,
Playful One, placed by peasants first
Amongst the Aesir, and all the gods
Be with us, be with us, be with us, Lord!
In freedom, in frith, and fruitful laughter:
O let our lives enlarge your kingdom!
We ask, o Ingvi, open bliss.


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