0,49 €
Niedrigster Preis in 30 Tagen: 0,00 €
In "Young Swaigder; or, The Force of Runes, and Other Ballads," George Borrow weaves a rich tapestry of folklore and narrative poetry that captures the spirit of the Romantic era. The collection presents a fusion of mythical themes and vivid imagery, showcasing Borrow's adeptness in using balladic forms to explore cultural and supernatural elements. The title poem, centered around Swaigder, reflects Borrow's fascination with runic symbols and their mysterious powers, all while echoing the traditions of folk narratives prevalent in 19th-century literature. Borrow's language is both lyrical and robust, inviting readers to delve into a world where the mundane intertwines with the magical, revealing the lasting impact of history and culture on identity. George Borrow (1803-1881) was a fervent advocate for the Romani people and a keen linguist whose travels across Spain and Eastern Europe influenced his writing immensely. His unique perspective as an outsider helped him to blend folklore with personal experience. His affinity for ancient languages and runic inscriptions, coupled with his interest in the mystical, can be seen as a precursor to the increasingly popular themes of nationalism and folklore rehabilitation during his time, which inspired his ballads in this collection. "Young Swaigder; or, The Force of Runes, and Other Ballads" is a treasure for readers interested in the intersections of history, culture, and literature. Borrow's exploration of runes and folk narratives offers rich layers of meaning and context, making this collection not just a work of art, but also a profound commentary on the forces that shape human experience. This book is highly recommended for those who appreciate poetry steeped in myth and the historical undercurrents of European literature.
Das E-Book können Sie in Legimi-Apps oder einer beliebigen App lesen, die das folgende Format unterstützen:
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
It was the young Swaigder, With the little ball he played; The ball flew into the Damsel’s lap, And pale her cheeks it made.
The ball flew into the Damsel’s bower. He went of it in quest; Before he out of the bower came, Much care had filled his breast!
“The ball, the ball thou shouldst not fling, Shouldst cast it not at me; There sits a maid in a foreign land, She sighs and weeps for thee.
“Thou never more shalt peace obtain, Or close in sleep thine eyes, Till thou has freed the lovely maid, In thrall for thee that lies.”
It was the young Swaigder, Placed his cap upon his head, And into the high chamber Unto his knights he sped.
“Here, quaffing mead from out the shell Sit ye, my Courtmen bold, Whilst I go to the mountain drear, Speech with the Dead to hold!
“Here, quaffing mead and ruddy wine, Sit ye my men so brave, Whilst I go to the mountain drear, With my mother speech to have!”
It was the young Swaigder, And he began to call— Riven were wall and marble stone, And the hill began to fall.
“Who is it breaks my sleep, And works me such annoy? Deep, deep below the earth so swart Can I not peace enjoy?”
“O, it is the young Swaigder, The son thou lovest dear; He fain would good advice from thee, His darling mother, hear.
“For I have now a step-mother, So harsh she is of mood, And she upon me Runes has cast For a maid I ne’er have view’d.”
“I will give thee a noble horse, Shall bear thee at thy need, And he will run upon the sea As on the verdant mead.