Song of the day (2nd February) – Cornelis Vreeswijk – Grimasch Om Morgonen.

So the song for Friday will be again quite exceptional. It is one of my favourite songs of an artist whose lyricism I really admire and who has been one of my faza people. His name is Cornelis Vreeswijk, he comes from the Netherlands, but lived and created his music and poems mostly in Sweden, and  spoke Swedish fluently. He was a singer, poet and actor and is beloved and famous in Sweden. He lived between 1937-1987. Was quite controversial, and was often quite controversial. Honestly, being a rightist, I disagree with many of his views, but I love his sense of humour, intelligence and perceptiveness in how he describes the world, people etc.

   So as I said “Grimasch Om Morgonen” is my favourite song from Cornelis’ entire discography, I think it’s really beautiful, but also quite sad, bitter and even a bit cynical. Maybe that’s why I love it too.

So to lessen the language bareer at least a bit, I’ll do my best to translate it into English, however, keep in mind, that I am not a native speaker of either of these languages, so it may not be a masterpiece and probably won’t be.

Now the dew is falling and the sun is rising

But you can’t hear it

You’re lying without blouse and skirt

With your lips close to my ear

Be serious now, you ask firmly 

You’re laughing out songs and singing jokes

You can, but don’t want to write

a song about the fragile happiness

Now the sun is rising and the dew is falling

for the poor people and for the rich.

But Luck has a poisoned thorn

that you need to carefully avoid.

She happily lingers for a few days

but when you want to capture her

her eyes turn ice cold 

and you become as bitter as bile

Now the dew is falling without a sound

and grass and leaves become wet

And every morning, the sun is the bride

though no wedding hymns can be heard

Ann-Katarin, you need to know that

there is a certain happiness which dies from laughter.

But it wants to be held at night

And then it becomes as quiet as water.

Get up from bed now, Ann-Katarin

and listen to something important.

There is a special kind of precious wine

that you should enjoy cautiously.

For if you drink it carelessly

it loses its former shine

And all you have got left is an empty bottle

of bitter tears and ashes.

 

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