Final version of the poem by the Swedish poet Wivallius

Dirge over this dry and cold spring (1642)

A dry and cold spring speeds summer’s demise,

of winter food us depriving.

Grant help, heav’nly King, see spring how it flies

and little joy we’re deriving.

Sun warm us, don’t harm us!

For winds chastise

and cold the summer is riving.

Good May-rain set free, let drizzle allay,

let warm dew feed plants that famish!

let drought banished be, let frost cease to flay

and cause all young flowers to languish.

Your curse flee, show mercy!

For those I pray

who serve and fear God with anguish.

Let weather forlorn and drought so unkind

not force red roses to perish,

let fields meant for corn the farmer not find

so barren they no man can nourish!

Make danger a stranger,

and always mind

the earth’s young crops so they flourish!

Let heaven’s great door wide open now swing

help clouds that would be ascending,

let us soon hear sweet nightingales sing

whose lays the cold’s been preventing!

Let voices rejoice as

young hearts take wing!

Let children’s dance know no ending!

Let folk hand in hand now dance, one and all,

let summer’s butterflies flutter!

On petals let stand, on leaves sweetly sprawl

moist pearls too lovely to utter!

let twitter and chitter

goldfinches small

with finest wagtails that scutter!

Give comfort and joy, let larks call and play,

let summer’s swallows not perish.

Our sad breasts alloy that only dismay

now feel, though Sweden we cherish!

Give summer, late-comer,

give good green hay,

let cuckoos cry out with relish!

When daybreak is near, or mild eventide

sees day with night alternating

We luring calls hear at summer’s divide,

God’s creatures dance, play, are mating!

in rivers there quiver

salmon and ide

their spawning anticipating!

Our days make them long, our nights make them clear,

let light, warm drizzle be falling

enticing to song all birds that have here

been mute in winter appalling!

let couples, redoubled

both far and near

rejoice, now summer is calling!

Make fruitful each crop, each creature beguile

o’er town and village when faring,

The ploughman’s limbs hop and dance all the while

he thin-spun linen is wearing.

Each thrush in dale gushes

and folk all smile

and many a trumpeter’s blaring.

Oh, sun ever bright, you poor man’s true friend,

your rays nobody denying,

light up our dwellings with summer again

let cold and drought off be hying!

Hard-pressed though soon blessed go

women and men

where’er sun’s warmth they are spying.

Our sorrows make brief, the ploughman befriend,

let green deck forest and valley,

from drought grant relief, and moisture now send

so farmers’ hearts soon may rally!

Rejoicing, let voices

in joy ascend

that yet but mournful words tally!

Let green clothe the trees, let fruit fill the earth,

ensure no need can oppress us,

to quickening breeze full-scented give birth

from field, mead, forest to bless us!

Grant garlanding, dancing

with measured mirth,

let bright-hued beds convalesce us!

Let grass become lush and flowers fair to see,

let ermines frolic and revel,

let cool breezes brush us far out at sea,

let soft winds hat-strings unravel!

In meadows find beds or

in green-clad lea

for those that nightly do travel.

Let craftsmen display the skill of their hand

and journey safe from all stealing,

let merchants find way on water and land

to where they fain would be dealing!

By nosegays and pathways

the joy expand

which high and low may be feeling!

Let days become warm! Let herdsmen still keep

their watch in pleasant shade hunching,

while shaking an arm at goats and at sheep,

on apples and berries lunching!

From ploughshare to bough fair

in one wide sweep

let oxen stare, their cud munching!

Let livestock now graze, from stalls oxen prise,

to forests drive cattle willing!

Let working beasts gaze ’neath God’s open skies,

let ploughmen rejoice while tilling!

Let fields share full yield where

the final prize

is ripe corn ready for milling!

Their meadows let flower, their furrows turn green,

their granaries help replenish!

With farmers in power, no soldier has seen

from lack of bed he need perish.

Wrath cease now, give peace now!

Both lad and colleen

know endless joys they can cherish.

Let crowding bees hum round flower and leaf

while honey sweet they’re extracting!

The air though is dumb from screams and sore grief

where armies war are enacting.

Wrath cease now, give peace now,

God grant relief,

to stop our foes from impacting!

O’er war you are king, o’er all you are lord,

o’er heaven’s stronghold presiding.

And thus everything I do you accord.

Help us on foot or when riding!

Make flourish and nourish

what’s cold and flawed!

You are our solace abiding.

Oh God, we have sinned against you, forgive

our many failings’ confusion!

Let penance rescind them, for we would live

our new lives free from illusion.

Though wroth, be you loath our

hearts to misgive,

though free from harmful delusion!

Restrain our desires, and teach us through prayers

to rightly use what you’ve given!

Whatever transpires, pray lessen the cares

of those to frugal life driven,

assist and resist not

the hand that bears

a bowl that’s empty and riven!

Grant them a good year, and o’er them let reign

your sun that seasons does sever,

the moon too so clear, let wax and let wane

that its pure light they lack never!

But those who oppose you,

the sick disdain,

may each house shun them for ever!

For a parallel text file of this poem go to here