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selections from "I Have Wedded This Blade"

by k.l.kahan as Wyndreth

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1.
My Mother's Savage Daughter words/music c.1990 k.l. u. kahan Chorus: I am my mother's savage daughter, the one who runs barefoot cursing sharp stones. I am my mother's savage daughter, I will not cut my hair, I will not lower my voice. My mother's child is a savage, She looks for her omens in the colors of stones, In the faces of cats, in the fall of feathers, In the dancing of fire and the curve of old bones. (Chorus) My mother's child dances in darkness, And sings heathen songs by the light of the moon, And watches the stars and renames the planets, And dreams she can reach them with a song and a broom. (Chorus) My mother's child curses too loud and too often, My mother's child laughs too hard and too long, And howls at the moon and sleeps in ditches, And clumsily raises her voice in this song. (Chorus) Now we all are brought forth out of darkness and water, Brought into this world through blood and through pain, And deep in our bones, the old songs are wakening, So sing them with voices of thunder and rain. (Chorus x3) We are our mother's savage daughters, The ones who run barefoot cursing sharp stones. We are our mother's savage daughters, We will not cut our hair, We will not lower our voice
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Lifeblood (A Viking Drinking Song) Tune, lyrics: © 1993 Karen L.U. Kahan Drink, for the wind blows cold and Drink for The Wolf runs free. Drink to the ships with the sails like wings and Drink to the storm-tossed seas. Drink to the lasting nights and those who warm our beds. Drink to the mead that warms our hearts and the cold that clears our head. Drink to the Allfather's Eye for Odin's sons are we. Drink to the World-Tree where he hung and the Runes of Mystery. Drink to the truth of steel and blood that falls like rain. Drink to Valhalla's golden walls and to our kinsmen, slain. Drink to the Glory-field where a man embraces death, and thank the gods that we live at all with our joyous dying breath! Drink for the wind blows cold and Drink for the Wolf runs free Drink to the ships with the sails like wings for Odin's sons are we!
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Reith Thorbjarnar (Thorbjorn's Ride): In Honor of Thorbjorn the Greysides © Karen L.U. Kahan 1995 Crag of rock justice-sharp, and keen, oversees ocean-edge. Weep there many, grief-dew bright on pale faces. Then comes this vision, to each watcher visits on night-wing: Rises the moon full; Comes the sea-steed racing seas-mane with outflung sails wind-bellied, full, speeds to ship-stead. Strideth one to prow; Great Wailing, she is hight by Aesir and Van. Swan-coated, she; mail-clad; sword-girt and full fearsome fair. (She cries:) "Heed! All manner of alf and wight, Mark thou me well! We are come for Grey Thor's Bear! Valhalla calls his names: "Hall-Master! Sword-Master! Sword-Brother! Ring-Giver! Stead-Keeper! Cheiftain!" "Who knows not his good wise counsel? In battle or at bench to each asker is answer freely given and weighed with wit." "Who knows not this free-handed steadkeeper making welcome all comers? Within his walls merry mirth and safe rest found all seekers there." "Who knows not of Hand-Adder and Feeder-of-Eagles? Axe and sword so named by einherjar his blows have made death-kin!" "Who knows not his wit at fair words? Bragi-blessed, his tongue ,and Othroerir-gifted; not coarse nor thick nor boastful, lesing." "Who knows not of Grey Thor's Bear? Valhalla calls his names: Hall-Master! Sword-Master! Sword-Brother! Ring-Giver! Stead-Keeper! Chieftain!" "Now let all lament and grieve greatly for this night sails from the world of wights a sage warrior skald matchless among men "And the wail of women and warrior both make fit chorus to honor his passage to the Hero-Hall of the Shining Ones. "But be sorrowful not: Tonight he boards seat at Odin's own bench. Allfather hails him by name saying, "Thorbjorn Greysides! You are well met!" "And pours for him the mellow mead in his own horn golden-wrought and graven with wish-speeding runes and Old Names. "Be sorrowful not for many number his kinsmen gone before, long waiting to clasp arms again as brothers. "This night they will raise meadhorn and voices in mirth and merry and tell glad tales each one to each of together times and apart. "Suchwise in wassail they so will dwell; this way pass time until Wyrd summons leman, kinsmen, sib, and bondsmen from the world of wights." "Once again I say: Heed, all manner of alf and wight! We are come for Grey Thor's Bear! Valhalla calls his names! "There will he dwell in place of honor earned well-over, in Hero-Hall in kinsmen company in mirth and merry." "There will he wait for each of you in turn as the Norns decree, and for Ragnarok which we every one await together!"
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The Death-Song of Golden Osis Ring-giver (In Honor of Thorbjorn Osis Brandsson, young and mighty.) © Karen L.U. Kahan 5/1999 On thunder-wing, lightning-shod, come Screamer, Gnasher, Woe-bringer, all. Feather-clad, sword-girt, Odin-sent ride they to Midgard to choose from the race of Men one worthy to board bench in Odin's meadhall; to bear bright blade at Ragnarok fell. Rides the road Golden Osis Jarl, pony driving homeward news to bring of foemen felled, of kinsmen well-met at week's end. Thewful, he; broad of back and strong of limb; golden-haired and comely. Gives he rings freehanded and offers host-mead when worthy wights finds he in warholm or in great hall. Foremost the Many-Crowned Jarl to the battle-stead goes, leads warriors fierce in number and strength! To the spear-dance singing they wend, rich raven-fare leaving they wherever they stand! Maidens sigh, foemen pale and tremble, to see him mail-clad, bathed in war-dew, mirthful laughing as helms he cleaves and byrnies sunders! First, he, Golden Osis Jarl, to free foemens' heart-tide. First, he, Thorbjorn Thunderer, to wend the wood of Trees-of-Thrud and hew them each timber to tinder! Exulting, they, the Valkyries savage singing warshriek fearsome! "Chosen this one is: Golden Jarl! Chosen is Golden Osis Ring-Giver!" "Fear this one, O Sons of Loki! Bears he bright death in both his hands! Bears he Sigfather's shining mark!" "Mourn this one, O Sons of Man! Rejoice he walked this time among you for one such as he escapes not long our notice or Allfather's Eye!" "The Norns say this: With his mighty tread will Valhalla ring, before the gold-wealth of his hair bears age-silver strands!"
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Berserker Song words/music © Karen L.U. Kahan 2002 Chorus: I say to the gods, I have wedded this blade and will take no other wife I have bones for her bride-price and a barrow for our bed and the blood of our enemies to dress us both in red. It's hard to recall now the man that I was then returning from raiding across the wide sea; My heart full of pride and our ship full of plunder, I watched for the strand where my stead watched for me. We thought it was fog-- and that out of season-- that cloaked our fierce prow and swallowed our wake. But the thicker it grew, the more it smelled of burning. We pulled the oars then till we feared they would break. Chorus We made groundfall; it seemed a hundred years later. When we could see clearly we wished we were blind. Our steadings were broken and bloody and barren; We knew from our raiding what else we would find. We wandered like wolves through the ashes of kinsmen. The crows mocked our howling to long-deafened ears. he stink of death sickened me nigh unto retching. We salted the earth of our dead with our tears. Chorus Some say I'm mad now, but I'm only enamored of my new shining bride and her face in the light. She weeps that she's thirsty, and I live to please her-- we search for her slaking through day and through night. Where a wraith goes, only wind marks its passing, but where a man goes, a good bear-dog can track. And I'll hound them until the last wears the blood-eagle carved like a lover's knot deep in his back. 2x Chorus
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about

Original a capella/spoken word Viking-Age Norse-styled stuff. And other stuff too. :)

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released January 1, 2004

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Wyndreth/SavageDaughter/Shieldmaid Wisconsin

Karen Kahan has been writing and performing original works including Viking-Age Norse-styled music and poetry as Wyndreth Berginsdottir, Savage Daughter, and A Shieldmaid, since the early 90s.

Performing largely a capella and with as little processing as possible to capture the candid honesty of oral tradition, she invites you to close your eyes, imagine the great-hall, and listen.
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