Upon Dovrefell
This is an Anglish wend of the Nornish folk song, Kjempene på Dovrefjell, written down in the 16th yearhundred. The song comes from Dovrefell, a ridge in Norway that draws a landimere between Eastern Norway and Trøndelag. The song speaks of rowns, spells, and other such folklore.
The Song[edit]
Upon Dovrefell in Norway lay there kemps without feres,
Drighten Ingeborg's brothers they all were.
But who shall stir our holy rowns when we ourselves can not?
The first could wend the weather with his hand,
the other could still the flowing waters.
But who shall stir our holy rowns when we ourselves can not?
The third swam under the water the same as a fish,
The fourth always had food on his dish.
But who shall stir our holy rowns when we ourselves can not?
The fifth could strike the golden harp
so all were spellbound who were lying there.
But who shall stir our holy rowns when we ourselves can not?
The sixth could blow a golden horn
So all who heard shall be fearful there.
But who shall stir our holy rowns when we ourselves can not?
The seventh could go under earth,
The eighth could stand atop the waves.
But who shall stir our holy rowns when we ourselves can not?
The ninth bound all the deer in the wold,
The tenth never needed sleep.
But who shall stir our holy rowns when we ourselves can not?
The eleventh bound the lindworm who laid in the grass,
and much more than that he could do.
But who shall stir our holy rowns when we ourselves can not?
The twelfth was so wise a man,
he knew what was happening in fremmedlands.
But who shall stir our holy rowns when we ourselves can not?
I say that wis and true,
their likeness could not be found in the land of Norway.
But who shall stir our holy rowns when we ourselves can not?