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sinni-ok-sessi · 6 months

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As we have established, I have Can't Shut Up Disease about the Bjarna-Dísa folktale and so I've spent most of this evening making a rough translation, the better to not shut up about it. My Icelandic is a little rusty at this point, so if you spot any parts I've obviously misunderstood, do let me know.

You can read the Icelandic online here, which I'm fairly sure is just a transcription of the text from Jón Árnason's Íslenzkar Þjóðsögur.

You can listen to Snorri Helgason's haunting (haha) song version here on his Bandcamp. The entire Margt býr í þokunni album is a collection of songs inspired by Icelandic folklore, would very much recommend.

Finally, you can find my translation of Bjarna-Dísa below the cut. I'm not sure how best to content warn for it other than to say that it's an Icelandic ghost story where the weather may actually be scarier than the ghost.

EDIT: apparently I'm doing more of these:

The Deacon of Myrká

Bjarna-Dísa

There was a man called Bjarni, the son of Þorsteinn. He was born in the late 18th century and lived until 1840. He had a sister called Þordís. She was about twenty when this story took place.

Þordís was pleasing in appearance, but was considered rather arrogant in attitude. She made a great deal of her clothing and imitated as best she could the fashions of Danish ladies, and she stayed at Eskifjörður marketplace in the last year of her life.

It so happened that Bjarni Þorsteinsson travelled down into Eskifjörður, and Þordís then joined her brother on his journey and planned to go with him to Seyðisfjörður, where Bjarni then lived.

Nothing is told of their journey before they took up lodgings at Þrándarstaðir in Eiðaþinghá. That was in the first half of Þorri [late winter]. They were there for one night. But the next morning, when they wanted to go pass over Fjarðarheiði, the weather was thick with snow and frost. Bjarni told his sister that she should stay behind, because the weather was unreliable and she was dressed for looks and not for protection.

She was in a simple linen dress and linen undershirt, sleeveless from the elbows down. She called it a serk and wanted no other kind of shirt. She had a cloth headdress, red and brown, and her hands and feet were poorly clad.

Dísa was not pleased to sit waiting. She declared that she should go with him, whether he would or no. They fell into an argument, and so set off both in poor humour, and made their way up onto the heath, in spite of the fact that the weather was growing worse and worse.

Now it came to pass that Bjarni had no idea where he was going, and Dísa grew weary from both cold and exertion, and always she complained that she was exhausted from all this walking; then Bjarni began to dig a cave into a snowdrift and when he had finished, it seemed to him that there was a gap in a gravel bank a little way away; then he said to Dísa that he wanted to go over there and see if he recognised the gravel bank. She asked him not to leave her, but it was no use.

So Bjarni went, but then the weather closed in; he thus found neither the gravel bank, nor Dísa again; nonetheless, he carried on indecisively until he crawled, barely awake, into Fjörður in Seyðisfjörður that evening, almost completely without strength, speechless and very scraped up around his face. He had gone astray past the mountain and fallen into brambles and ravines, lost his hat and was generally in a bad way.

At that time, there lived in Fjörður a farmer who was called Þorvaldur Ögmundsson. He was well thought of, powerfully strong and very brave. Those who knew him said that he knew no fear. He was straightforward and even-tempered, intelligent and the best man to ask for a favour.

He received Bjarni well and had him nursed back to health as best he could. And it was not until the next evening that Bjarni was able to tell the tale of his journey, so exhausted was he. Then he begged Þorvaldur to prepare himself to search for his sister; but the weather continued the same as ever. It was weather from the north, very harsh and dark, and so much frost that it was hardly possible for a strong man to find his way home between the houses. So Bjarni was there for two more nights, but on the fifth day after he parted from Dísa, the weather calmed a little.

Then they prepared themselves for the journey, Þorvaldur, Bjarni and a labourer by the name of Jón Bjarnason, a hard-working man and a good fellow; they made their way up to the heath, but a little way from the common route, because it was Bjarni’s guess that that would be the best place to search for Dísa.

When they had come north of Stafdalsfell, they heard a scream so loud that it resounded through all the nearby mountains. Jón and Bjarni were shocked but not terrified, and Þorvaldur did not know what it was to be afraid. He headed in the direction from which the sound had come, until he was east of Stafdalur. His companions had begun to fall behind. Then Þorvaldur questioned Jón’s courage to get him to keep up.

By then, the day had ended, and the weather was somewhat bright, and bitter frost came driving at them; the moon shone down and clouds passed overhead; thus the time passed. Then Þorvaldur saw something in a snowdrift, where he had had no hope of finding anything, though the area was well-known to him. There was a grassy hill stretching away from them.

Then he said to the others, “Þordís must be there now,” and it was as he said.

So he went to her. She was not at that time lying down, as he would have expected from a dead person, but rather she was positioned most like when people are sitting in a chair; the linen dress was tented around her middle and frozen in spikes, and she was bare below and bareheaded, the snow-house blown away so that you could only see the bottom of it.

Þorvaldur spoke then to his companions, saying that they should approach and help each other to arrange the corpse on a skin which he had brought with them for transportation. They dragged it towards him. Then he told Bjarni to cut the frozen covering off her, because he wanted to dress her in trousers, which he had with him, so she was not naked as they carried her. Bjarni did as he was told, though he was afraid.

Then Þorvaldur lifted her up in his arms and intended to dress her in the trousers, but at this, she let out such a great howl that it overpowered him; Þorvaldur has said that it seemed to him impossibly strong and mighty.

His companions recoiled from deadly fear, but Þorvaldur reacted thus: he put Dísa down hard and said rather quickly: “No good are you, Dísa, to struggle like this, because I am not at all afraid, and if you carry on like this, then you will find out that I shall tear your apart nerve by nerve and then throw your body to the wolves; on the other hand, if you behave agreeably for us while we carry you and we have no trouble getting you down, then I shall make a coffin for you and bury you in a Christian grave, though I imagine you aren’t worthy of such a thing.”

After that, he took her, dressed her and arranged her on the skin, called his companions to him and made his way home.

(Other stories say that Þorvaldur may have broken Dísa’s back to make her be quiet, and thus she stopped howling. There are many other ugly stories about their exchange. Þorvaldur was a decent, honest man, but superstitious like many in the 18th century, and the story he told himself must be the most accurate.

(The stories say that Dísa and Bjarni had had a cask of strong spirits. Dísa may have been drunk, but alive, and Þorvaldur dealt with her out of superstitious fury.))

Þorvaldur had seen that the tracks from Dísa’s lair were like this: that she had walked, so that each path was different, to about four fathoms away and then leapt backwards in a single leap with both feet, back into her den, and she had done this twice. Hermann of Fjörður in Mjóafjörður, who was called very wise, has said that this was the habit of those who walked after death, and they needed to do it three times in order to become full revenants, but Dísa lacked the third path.

Now they carried on down from the heath; the weather was so dark overhead that it was hard to find their way, yet they arrived unharmed at Fjarðarsel; it was then a short way out to Fjörður over the shoulder of the mountain, but Þorvaldur did not trust himself to find his way along the fjord; he asked for lodgings for him and his companions. But the farmer refused; he said that he had become wary of the unpleasant spirit that followed them.

Then Þorvaldur began to make arrangements: he set the body in a shed across from the doors to the living quarters and went into the living quarters with his companions, and the farmer sat with his son on the edge of the sleeping platform. Both of these two were called Björn; they each held a spiked walking stick in their hands and paced back and forth in front of the door. Thus they continued into the night. Þorvaldur did not become sleepy, and did not undress, but went out alone to look at the weather. One time during the night, when he wanted to turn back to the main building, Dísa appeared before him in the doorway, as though she wanted to follow him inside, but he turned her away and hurried into the living quarters.

With the coming of day, the weather quietened, so that they were able to reach Fjörður. The hut in which Dísa had spent the night was scratched as though by claws. Now Þorvaldur went to a coffin-maker, just as he had promised, and had Dísa brought to Dvergasteinn. The priest there at that time was Þorsteinn Jónsson the poet (d. 1800). He offered Dísa burial in the Christian manner. But it so happened that the next morning there was a strangely deep hole at the foot of Dísa’s resting place; the hole was filled, but in the morning it was open again. Again it was filled, and yet again, on the third morning, it was open as before. Then the priest himself came and said a blessing over the hole. Men say that from that point on, it did not re-open.

Now it must be told about Bjarni, that henceforth, whenever he intended to sleep, Dísa came and tried to take him by the throat, and this was no secret because both the blind and the sighted saw her. Men also said that she had often attacked him, even in the light. Then he went to Father Þorsteinn, who was mentioned before, and received some kind of protection from him, so that Dísa never succeeded in hurting Bjarni himself.

Bjarni had thirteen children, and they all died young and quickly. Men have it as true that Dísa must have hastened all of their deaths. She followed Bjarni until his dying day and often made her presence felt: killed living people, and sometimes attacked men, and there are many tales told of her tricks that would be too long to relate here.

And thus ends the story of Bjarna-Dísa, and the story here is written as it was told by Þorvaldur himself.

#I would love for people to read this because I think it's a very cool and creepy little story #with lots of room to imagine all sorts of horrible things if you want to #unfortunately I have no idea what to tag it as so *shrug* here goes #folklore #icelandic folklore #translations #ghost stories #(on which note I should really see if we have anything else attributed to Mr Cleverclogs Hermann of Fjörður because his stuff about #How to Make a Revenant is very interesting and I wonder how well-known it was)

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thewinedarksea · 5 months

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we went to iceland!

#it was our 5th year anniversary trip. yes we went the first week of october yes i am posting this more than a month later this is bc im #allergic to social media and will forget for weeks on end. it is a miracle this is getting posted at all.#anyways!! iceland is the most beautiful country ive ever been to. literally in love. incredible time. most of these are from reykjavik #proper. top left is the view right across from our hotel (haunts me still I Miss Her). middle is black sand beach. top middle is me and my #most beautiful wife who didnt like her face in this so she is instead a heart (tragic bc i looked amazing in this set).#pls know that every picture that i will be posting my wife took bc she is a camera GODDESS (all from her phone bc she does hard mode). dont #ever make the mistake of thinking i am posting my pics i cannot take them and they always come out blurry #everyone *suffered* with my snapchats and then i went and posted the Good Ones #we did an escape room in reykjavik too--mafia-themed it was great--and walked all over and ate a great deal and saw so very many cats. huge #fan of all the cats.#prepare for spam #iceland trip #mine.txt #my face #i think is my tag?#i reach for you in the night

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goodmorning-rigoberto · 16 days

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> Stay.

hongiceweek day 2: is it possible to die from embarrassment? // did I say that out loud?

@hongiceweek

Have you ever felt as if the floor beneath your feet suddenly disappeared and in its place a deep, black abyss of shame appeared and threaten to swallow you? As if the air in the atmosphere suddenly became liquid and what entered your lungs was not a light airy material but water, suffocating water?

Have you ever wanted to vomit your breakfast out of shame, but not really cause that would only make the situation you're in even more uncomfortable?

Situation that you sought for yourself.

By mistake.

"Could you repeat that? I don't think I heard you correctly"

He was making fun of him. Emil knew perfectly well each and every one change in Leon's tone of voice and also knew that at that precise moment the brunette was having the time of his life at his expense. Why did these things only happen to him?

They were having a nice breakfast, the sun was coming in through the kitchen window. The gentle morning breeze lifted the smell of dew to his nostrils and he was sure that, for some reason, the food that day was even more delicious.

Now he just wanted to vomit.

And run. Get up and run as far as his legs would allow him. Far from his words and the pretty dark eyes of his guest.

"Of course you heard me!"

"No, I was distracted. I swear."

"Leon"

"Also my Icelandic is very basic. I don't quite understand some words just yet, you speak very fast"

"I was speaking in english"

"Really?"

"I AM speaking in english"

"That I can see"

"Why...are you like this?"

----

It happened by accident — and that didn't happen very often — as they were both talking about everything and nothing, about the itinerary they had ahead of them and the days that still remained of the hongkonger's visit to his territory, Emil found himself quite comfortable with the situation.

It was just the two of them and the time ahead, time that as nations always felt infinite. At that moment nothing mattered but the hand that absentmindedly traced circles over his. Out there was nothing else.

And his heart, overflowing, decided to let out a little of what was always kept deep inside. A carelessness caused by the trust and protection he always felt in the presence of the other.

Emil was a very reserved person — maybe too much, or so his brothers used to say — so saying words without thinking about them first was not something he did often. His anxiety wouldn't allow it.

But never say never.

Leon was lamenting about "how he wouldn't be able to see the First Day of Summer's parade" which was "a real shame, because it was always wonderful" and "your country is so beautiful, so interesting" and of course "but I will return next year, I promise"

And Emil suddenly felt so full. The one million feelings he had for Leon hit him with the force of a volcano. His heart was happy and everything in the world made sense.

"You could always stay and live here, with me"

He blurted out without thinking, distracted by the soft rays of sunlight streaming through the window, the breeze, and the warmth of the other's hand. The smell of freshly made coffee and the brown coffee in the eyes of the only person with whom he really and without hesitation wanted to spend the rest of his days.

Was that possible for a nation? Probably not, or maybe yes, it didn't matter. Although if they gave him a choice; he would choose Leon as many times as possible.

"What?"

And with that question his daydreams were broken, returning him to the earthly world. Bright red colors going directly to his cheeks. Had he said WHAT out loud? HAD HE SAID WHAT OUT LOUD!?

-----

"Emil"

"No..."

"Emil"

"Enough"

"Emil"

"I'm not going to repeat that, just forget it. I didn't say anything, this conversation is over. I'm never going to talk to you again"

And to give weight to his words he stood up from the table, taking some plates with him to the sink. He needed to occupy his hands or else he would end up tearing off his eyelashes one by one.

The brunette behind him sighed, smiling amused by his reaction. What a joy it was to be able to witness such a curious— and adorable, in his opinion— personality firsthand.

"Would you really allow me to stay for life?"

Asked a voice, now next to him. Placing other dishes in the sink and helping him wash them.

"I mean, Yao would be furious and the people at home would probably make a fuss knowing I'm not coming back"

"..."

"I would have to ship all my stuff. Is it cheaper to ship via marine route?"

"..."

"By the way, I snore and Mei says I tend to kick people while I'm asleep. Are you okay with that?"

His monologue interrupted by the Icelander's soft laughter.

"You don't snore. Liar"

"I thought you were never going to talk to me again"

Defeated, Emil finally turned to see him. Smiling gratefully for restoring that pleasant atmosphere that only existed when he was in Leon's presence.

A pair of arms surrounding him and pulling his body into a hug. Soft kisses placed on his cheeks.

"I would very much like to stay here forever with you"

And Emil would like to be able to say that he thought the same, that he would love to be able to spend all his days with Leon. If they had no obligations he was very sure that nothing could stop them from staying and living like that. In the arms of eachother. Happy.

"You are so bold sometimes, you know? Anyone would think you were proposing to me by saying that"

"I---What!? S-Shut up!?"

"I do, by the way"

"You know what? On second thought, you should leave today. Now."

Now that he thought about it more clearly, the earth swallowing and spitting him out far away from there sounded like a better idea.

#hongiceweek2024 #hongice #hws hong kong #hws iceland #EMIL YOU SILLY SILLY BOY IN LOVE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH #naah they are so sweet i'm going to cry #stay like that forever! please!#(hope there are not gramatical mistakes or weird phrasing i originally wrote this in spanish i apologize)#please enjoy!

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thattiredsock · 1 year

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Brad's reactions to Frank

1975 Film -Barry Bostwick, 2015 UK-Ben Foster, 2016 Film-Ryan McCartan, 2018 Iceland-Jón Atli Jónasson , 2018-Korea Jin Tae-hwa (I think) and 2022 Mexico-Moisés Araiza as Brad Majors in The Rocky Horror Picture Show

(x) (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

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ivettel · 1 year

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#jukebox #laufey #iceland symphony orchestra #i wish you love #hi. i've had a bit of a think the last few weeks. not really back but have this tune that i've been addicted to the last week #my little love letter to you and to seb :)

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saireye · 18 days

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Urge yaoi

#Would you believe me if I said these were lazytown characters #Yeah thats why I’m not putting in the main tags #Art #painting #digital art #gay #yaoi #lol #men in love #art #homo #drawing #Icelandic folklore #tw nudity #cw nudity #suggestive #nudity

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idontknowhowthisappworks · 5 months

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hi mommy can u have iceland hcs can u do that pls???? ilysm mommy

HEYYY!!!! ilysm tooo baby!!!! Imma do 10 hcs tell me if you want more ok???

1- Iceland has asthma due to all the volcanoes and whenever they erupt he has an asthma attack.

2- Iceland secretly wishes he was still a kid because back then he could call Norway big brother without shame and he could still ride on Denmark's shoulders to 'touch' the northern lights.

3- Iceland can see the mythical creatures just like Norway can. He used to be able to but Norway just thought he lost his magic because he's no longer a child. But the population of Iceland believes in elves. So it's just fitting he can see them too.

4- Iceland sleeps with Mr. Puffin like a stuffed animal.

5- During the viking era Norway would tell him stories of him, Sweden, and Denmark (not including the blood guts and murders) and Iceland would ask to come. When he said no he would run around and play with the fairies, trolls, and elves and reenact the story Nor just told him.

6- Iceland likes horror movies. His favorites are The Terrifier and the Saw series.

7- Iceland loves Christmas. With all the music, decoration, and cheer. It's the only time of year you could actually see him smile.

8- Iceland is an amazing chef. He cooks everything perfectly and everything has amazing and rich flavors.

9- Iceland also sees the monsters of the mythical world which haunt his nightmares, leaving him with sleep paralysis.

10- Iceland is actually the most emotional person you would ever meet, he's just good at hiding it.

Please like and reblog this took me an hour.

#iceland #requested #aph iceland #hws iceland #hetalia #hetalia nordics #I LOVE YOU GUYS

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no-distance-left-to-run · 2 months

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the nearer the fountain, more pure the stream flows hits so different in iceland

#I listened to it sailing around the harbour and it illustrated the landscapes so perfectly #and yes that mountain is esja that damon named a song after #you can really understand where it came from when you’re here #it’s the peacefulness but also the bleakness of the surroundings #i love it even more now #damon albarn #the nearer the fountain more pure the stream flows #iceland

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wickedcriminal · 2 years

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One of my favorite headcanons has got to be the one where Astrid isn't from Berk, but moved there with her parents when she was little. That's why her name isn't 'hideous' like the other teens.

#httyd #astrid httyd #astrid hofferson #i got this hc from someone else but i can't for the LIFE of me remember who it was so whoever you are if you find this post HELLO #this person also headcanoned Astrid's full name as Ástríður which is icelandic!!#i just. really love the idea that astrid came to Berk at a very young age and had to fight her way into being accepted #which is why shes so intense and competitive #and little hiccup saw her and admired her for it #such a good hc

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aro-iceland · 3 months

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polished up that one sketch a bit...

#hetalia #aph iceland #hws iceland #i love you magic iceland au...

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peccaberry · 4 months

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#This one is for Lillie I love you Lillie 🥺#pokemon legends of arceus #pokemon #PLA #Pokemon Legends #Clan leader Irida #warden gaeric #pearl clan #Alabaster Icelands #peccaplays #Pokemon gif #peccaspeaks

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yioh · 4 months

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…. MY OCS ……

#MARK MY WORDS. IM GONNA MAKE A COMIC FOR THEM.#I EVEN GAVE THEM NAMES AND A PERSONALITY #GASP #i imagine their story to be set in a world where it feels like it’s just the two of them and dreamy ghosts and spirits that they have #adventures with 😭 and they fall in LOVE WAAAAHHHHSKCJDK #oviya is tamil and asta is from iceland !#the location their story is set in is an imaginary place tho so i guess you can say they are tamil and icelandic inspired :)#you can talk to me abt them .. if you like … KJSDKDJSKD

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islandiis · 7 days

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1873; United States | @offreedom

It had been a long journey — understatement of the century, really. It was only merciful he already resided in Denmark at the time, or he would have been forced to add a leg out from Iceland, also. He had boarded the ship in Copenhagen just over a month prior, despite the extensive fussing of his brother and the attempts to convince him otherwise. This trip would likely have been exhausting for just about anyone, let alone someone of Eirik's fragile constitution. Their relationship was close, if not a little on the codependent side, and he had great qualms about his frail little brother making the month long journey to the New World. But Eirik was stubborn as a mule, as he always had been, and he insisted that the trip might be good for him. There was no way to change his mind, ultimately.

It had, indeed, been exhausting. Eirik realised fairly quickly after leaving the port in Leith that this was not going to be an easy trip. There were simply too many people in cramped quarters, although it was made slightly easier upon learning that a fair few of these passengers were fellow Icelanders, emigrating. There was also the issue of the coal-burning ship, which Eirik hadn't accounted for, and nerves growing by the second as he wondered what awaited him on the other side of the Atlantic. He had spent the voyage mostly reading and writing, or socialising with his countrymen. On the days where his body buckled under the exhaustion or illness snuck up on him - which, he'd never admit to his brother, happened more ofren than he'd like - he always found his people sitting by his bed to keep him company. The trip was long, but a nice little community was formed, and he even gave several his address in Copenhagen so they could write one another once they had settled. Something in him ached, knowing they were leaving their home under these circumstances, but Eirik couldn't blame them. Laki had affected them all.

The trip from New York to West Virginia was much quieter, and Eirik found himself yearning for the companionship of his fellow Icelanders, or his brother across the Atlantic. But it was a short ride, in comparison - only about 7 hours - and although he tried to sleep, he simply couldn't. The views outside the windows were dim, but unlike anything he'd seen in Iceland. Everything here was so incredibly huge, as well - especially what little he saw of New York. It was rather overwhelming, but nothing moreso than the uncertainty of what awaited him on his arrival into West Virginia. The entirety of the train ride was spent fidgeting, staring out windows, drumming his heel, waiting.

When the train docks, he feels like he can't move. But here he is: West Virginia, United States of America. How grand.

He can feel himself shaking as he steps off the train, and his breathing is audibly rasping. People push past him off the train and he looks rather unnerved by the hustle-and-bustle, but then the crowd parts and he's the only one left on the platform. Not that he was hard to spot in the first place: a young man, probably bordering on eighteen, as white as snow and looking completely bewildered. And he is easily spotted; his eyes land on a woman he believes might be Abigail, and she looks back at him. Timidly, he gives her a little half-smile and waves, but he's hesitant to close the distance himself in case he might be wrong. This is all so... New, after all.

#in character.#offreedom #Okay this is long as HELL please don't feel you have to match I just wanted to add context hehe #I am PUMPED omfg #Fannar sounding like a dying animal bc nervous and he hasn't even tried speaking English yet DJSNDJSNSJSKN #But Keira speaking some Icelandic Fannar is gonna CRYYY #I love them sm your honour #Also let's see how many times I use Fannar instead of Eirik lmfaooo

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