Anon: 'Konung Göstaf I och Dahlkarlarne'

 

King Gustav I and the Men of Dalarna

 

To Dalarna King Gustav rides

To parley with his Swedes,

But Christian lies at Södermalm,

On stolen pork he feeds,

Christian sits safe in Stockholm,

He guzzles both wine and mead.

 

Listen good men of Dalarna

To all I have to say:

:|: Will you with me to Stockholm go

For there the Jutes to slay? :|:

 

The men of Dalarna answered him

They answered every one:

:|: Good Friday’s battle we still recall,

Much slaughtering then was done. :|:

 

To this King Gustav did reply:

He answered with this prayer:

:|: May God our Father in Heaven ensure

That we now better fare. :|:

 

The men of Dalarna answered him

Who bore the Swedish crown:

:|: Will you our battle-leader be

And take back Stockholm town? :|:

 

Snow grouse and squirrel in the tree

Our arrows seek and find;

:|: That bloodhound Christian surely then

To such a fate’s assigned. :|:

 

I’ll gladly your battle-leader be,

King Gustav told them true,

:|: If you will swear allegiance

And follow my banner blue. :|:

 

Then all the men of Dalarna

They answered one and all:

:|: We’ll gladly risk both life and limb

To make that tyrant fall. :|:

 

The man of Dalarna armed themselves,

Not one whole day but two,

:|: To fight alongside King Gustav

And see the battle through. :|: 

 

Gladly King Gustav then set out,

O’er Tuna bridge he rode;

:|: In numbers that the Danes amazed,

The men from Dalarna strode. :|:

 

Across the Tuna heath they spread,

this army of valiant men;

:|: Greater in number than the king

At one look could take in. :|:

 

He and his men at speed advanced,

They Stockholm would set free;

:|: Their shower of arrows thicker fell

Than hail does on the sea. :|:

 

He and his men they forged ahead

And made for Stockholm town;

:|: Their shower of arrows thicker fell

Than rain from clouds pours down. :|: 

 

The men from Dalarna then did shoot,

Their bows they drew and twanged;

:|: Thicker the swarm of arrows was

Than the seashore’s grains of sand. :|:

 

The men from Dalarna had their sport,

Their arrows did skip and nip;

:|: Two Jutlanders the third one bore

Up on their pikestaff’s tip. :|:

 

The miller’s wife she then came out

And loudly she did chide:

:|: The sacks of grain have all been ground,

Who’s to carry them inside? :|:

 

They are not sacks of grain that’s ground,

In spite of what you say;

The highest Jutlanders they are

That of late in Malm did lie,

The poorest Jutlanders they are

That from arrows came to die.

 

My head is simply splitting,

My limbs are heavy as lead;

:|: I’ve drunk marsh rosemary’s foul brew

That in Dalecarlia’s bred. :|:

 

My side is also aching,

All movement leaves me bent;

:|: I’ve tasted the herring sour and rank

That from Dalecarlia’s sent. :|:

 

From out their houses people came

Onto Stockholm’s streets they stepped;

:|: It caused delight to watch the Jutes

That from their horses leapt. :|:

 

A knight there was called Eric,

He moaned as if in pain :

:|: May Lord God help us Jutes, our land

We ne’er will see again! :|:

 

King Gustaf rode on his noble steed

Around the battlefield;

:|: I thank you, my men of Dalarna,

For faith that did not yield. :|:

 

At my side you have battled

As faithful Swedes and true;

If God me further life shall grant,

I’ll make this up to you.

If God me further life shall grant,

I’ll make this up to you.

 

To see the original, go to here

 

 

This is the story of the Stockholm Bloodbath and its aftermath. For more information, go to here.

 

Sven-Bertil Taube recorded this on an early LP, Skillingtryck