October 2014 – MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive

~~misbehavingmaiar:~~

~~666+ of you have found me worthy of keeping on your dashboards!~~

~~Let me show my appreciation through dubious gifts! ❤~~

~~Reblog and like this entry to participate!~~

~~RULES:~~

~~1) Must be following me.~~

~~2) No Shenanigans.~~

~~3) No Reblogging to Multiple Accounts~~

~~Prizes ARE transferrable!~~

~~Give the gift of Dark Lord smooches to someone you love! Or hate!~~
~~Have someone you cherish be chased by wolves!~~

—– GiveAway Ends On: HALLOWEEN OCT 31, 2014—-
Prizes will be determined on Nov. 1

~~You are all delicious. ❤ ❤ ❤~~

~~With love,~~
~~~Wesley and the Dork Lords~~

Alright, that’s a wrap! 😀 Giveaway officially closed!

We’ll find our winners tomorrow. Thank you for sharing and being here!

And to those of you who joined solely for the chance to be able to feed your friends to wolves or be snogged by dark lords, welcome aboard! ❤

misbehavingmaiar:

“The Unquiet Grave” —Helium Vola

Cold blows the wind to my true-love,

and gently drops the rain.

I never had but one sweetheart, and in greenwood she lies slain

and in greenwood she lies slain.

I’ll do as much for my sweet heart

as any young man may.

I’ll sit and mourn all on her grave

for twelve month and a day.

When the twelve month and a day was passed,

the ghost began to speak:

“Why sitest here all on my grave, and will not let me sleep?”

There’s one thing that I want, sweetheart,

there’s one thing that I crave;

and that is a kiss from your lily-white lips,

then I’ll go from your grave.

“My breast is cold as the clay,

my breath smells earthly strong;

and if you kiss my cold-clay lips,

your days they won’t be long.”

“Go fetch me water from the desert

and blood from out of a stone.

Go fetch me milk from a fair maid’s breast

that a young man never has known.”

Oh down on yonder grove, sweetheart,

where you and I would walk,

the first flower that e’er I saw

was withered to a stalk.

The stalk is withered and dry, sweetheart,

and the flower will never return—

Not since I lost my own sweetheart;

What can I do but mourn?

When shall we meet again, sweetheart,

when shall we meet again?

“When the oaken leaves that fall from the trees,

grow green, and spring up again.”

Happy Halloween, everyone!

https://www.tumblr.com/audio_file/misbehavingmaiar/101413545469/tumblr_mol0txSUaE1rybgyc?plead=please-dont-download-this-or-our-lawyers-wont-let-us-host-audio

misbehavingmaiar:

huinare:

From Garmarna’s official website:

A poem written in south-saami, one of the languages spoken by the Saami-people in the northern parts of Scandinavia and Russia. It is written by Cecilia Persson, a south-saami actress and friend of ours, and is inspired by an actual event, where leaf-eating grubs turned a whole river valley into a complete wasteland. Ironically, the valley was to be devastated a few months later anyway, by the building of a enormous dam. It’s as if nature herself felt what was going to happen and decided to take things into her own hands.

[Southern Sámi]

Lastemååjegeh jeenjesh sjidteme
Njaalkeme stuerebe enn åvtesne
Moereh aajngesem steerieh, jaamah jïh gahtjah
Almetje goh snöölhke mah tjelmehts sjidteme
Njaalkemem lea dïhte maam manne damtam
Njaalkeme bijre jarkan

[English]

There are so many caterpillers
Hunger, greater now than ever
The trees hold their breath, die and fall
Man is like a blinded wolf
Hunger is all I feel
Hunger everywhere

What a pleasant surprise on my dash! ❤ Songs that remind me of Ungoliant. ❤

Source: lululempi

https://www.tumblr.com/audio_file/misbehavingmaiar/101413542564/tumblr_mz7c7nC0f21s7gimt?plead=please-dont-download-this-or-our-lawyers-wont-let-us-host-audio

song-treasures:

Garmarna – Brun

translation by Alistair Cochrane:

Brun (The Robber)

 Brun rides off to the maiden's home 
 - Brun sleeps all alone - 
 Before him the maiden stands alone
 - The howling wind and rainstorms lash the northern
 mountains
 Three northerners lie dead there - 

 His mantle of blue Brun spreads so wide, 
 Lifts up the maiden, and away he rides. 

 And Brun rides many a weary mile 
 Until he longs to rest for a while.

 "Now hear me, maiden, I'll tell you plain: 
 Fifteen maids in this place I have slain."

 And Brun lay down with that maiden fair, 
 Till sweet sleep overcame him there. 

 Her braids of gold the maiden unties 
 And binds Brun hand and foot where he lies. 

 "Rise up now, Brun, as quick as you can, 
 For I never will slay a sleeping man." 

 Her knife of gold she takes in her hand 
 And stabs young Brun to the quick where he stands.

 "Lie there till the ravens and dogs have their fill, 
 And my maiden's virtue will be with me still. 

 "Lie there, lie there on the ground so cold,
 - Brun lies all alone - 
 And still I will keep my maiden's gold." 
 - The howling wind and rainstorms lash the northern
 mountains 
 Three northerners lie dead there -

Source: song-treasures