FUNI

by FUNI

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  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Featuring 18 tracks of Icelandic traditional songs and hymns. It comes in a beautifully designed 3 fold digipak with a 36 page illustrated booklet containing notes about the songs and full lyrics in both Icelandic and English.

    Includes unlimited streaming of FUNI via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
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      £5 GBP  or more

     

1.
Funi - Fire 03:01
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones Álitsfagur Funi er, flýgur létt um grundir. Höfuð jafnan háleitt ber, hrífur hvern sem til hans sér. Þegar fákur fer á sprett fýkur burtu mjöllin. Funi í taumum leikur létt, lipur stiklar völlinn. Glansar auga mest sem má, melaglaðinn prýðir. Dansar Funi létt um láð lipur taumnum hlýðir. Eins og fuglinn oft hann fer á þó straumur falli. Lárus Funi á baki ber blessaður klárinn snjalli. Frægðin hér í fákasveit Funa er að vonum. Aldrei hér ég annan leit af sem beri honum. Breytir angri í yndisstund er töltagangur falur, Spretti langa um græna grund grípur stangavalur. English Funi is a handsome sight, races over meadows. Always has his head held high, enchants all who see him nigh. When a fine steed starts to run snow flies from the ground. Funi, to the reins responds pacing agile in the field. Eyes that gleam the brightest bright this stallion´s head adorn. Funi prances on the ground lightly obeys the reins. Like a bird he often flies ´though rivers block the way. Funi carries Lárus high beloved horse so clever. Fame here in these equine lands, Funi has, no wonder. I have never laid eyes upon another he ranks under. Cares become a moment fine to watch the stallion change his pace from willing slow trot to a gallop in the green fields.
2.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones Í þínu nafni uppvaknaður er ég, Jesús, guð og maður. Lof sé þér fyrir líf og gæði, líkamans heilsu, föt og fæði, og alt það þín óþreytt mildi aumum mér til leggja vildi; bið ég þig, minn blíði herra, blessun þína ei lát þverra. Vernda mig frá voða öllum, vondum dauða og slysa-föllum; englar þínir að mér gæti, engum svo ég meiðslum mæti. Mitt verklag og miskunn þína mér lát vera unun mína; auk mér skilning orða þinna, eru þau lampi fóta minna. Gef mér jafnan gott að læra, góðlyndum við alla vera, varfærum í velgengninni, vongóðum þó raunir finni. Ljúfi Jesú, með lífi´og öndu legg ég mig í þínar hendur; þar vil ég fús að lyktum lenda, lofaður sértu utan enda. English In your name awakened I am, Jesus, God and man. Praise you for life and all its goodness, health and fitness, food and clothing and all that your untiring mercy bestows upon my wretched soul; I beseech you, my kind Lord, May your blessings never end. Protect me from all danger, untimely death and accident. May your angels shield me, so I may do no harm. May my work and your mercy be my delight. Grant me greater understanding of your words. They are the lamp that guides my feet. Help me learn my lessons, to be good tempered with all. Careful in prosperity. Hopeful, though troubles call. Gentle Jesus, with life and spirit I lay myself in your hands. There I will gladly end my days. Praise to you forever.
3.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones Bar svo til í byggðum bogamaður eitt sinn var sauði´ að svipta styggðum, sífellt veiddi tóurnar. Ábataðist örvatýr við þetta, þó nokkur yrði stundum stans á störfum hans að svíkja pútur pretta. Fræknum fleinaþolli förlast veiðiskapurinn tók, því einn íbygginn skolli armæðu stóra honum jók. Dratthali með drjúgu lymsku bragði aldrei snerti agnbitann, en ávallt hann á þúsund leiðir lagði. Geymir góins dýnu grét af slíku vandræði, agni sviptur sínu og sjálfri gróðavoninni. Döfnuðu frost, en drýgðust snjóar harðir. Tók að gjörast tóa svöng, því tíð var löng og vaktaðar voru hjarðir. Nú sem neyðin knúði, nærfærnin svo aukast vann. Fimleik tóa trúði og tyllti nögl við agnbitann. Boginn hleypur brátt sem auga renni, en fótur á lyddu fastur sat, hún fékk nú mat, brá í brúnir henni. Meiðir stáls að morgni mælt er klæðist aflúinn. Vakti hann vaninn forni veiðiskap að stunda sinn. Sér hann þá hvar sauðbíturinn slægi blýfastur í boganum lá, svo bærði´ ei á. Hann drap við dauðu hræi. Kátur kesjulundur kenndi með henni ekkert líf, bogann benti´ í sundur og belgnum fleygði Þórs á víf. Í þessum svifum tóa tölti á fætur. Haukastjórann hann þá rak í hennar bak, það myndaði með þeim þrætur. Þókti raun ill rebba, hún reif og skemmdi fróman mann á munn, hönd, höku´ og nebba, og hvar sem náði beit hún hann. Seggurinn þegar sársaukann réð finna, orkan hverfur tjörgutýr, en tóa snýr burt til byggða sinna. English Once upon time, in those regions, it so happened that a hunter, releasing the sheep from threats, was constantly hunting the foxes, by which he gained some profit. Albeit he, occasionally, took a break from his occupation of outwitting those mischievous beasts. The valiant man, however, in the course of time began to fail somewhat in his hunting skills, as there was one ingenious fox who greatly increased his vexation. With a very cunning plot, the fox never touched the bait, even though the hunter was always laying the bait on a thousand trails. The man bewailed his trouble, as he was deprived of his meat, as well as his hope of profit. Freezing increased, and hard snowstorms. The fox was beginning to hunger, as the winter-season grew long, and the flocks of sheep were well guarded. Now, as bare necessity impelled the fox, his audacity increased. Having faith in his agility, he touched the bait with his claw. The trap's claws snapped shut in the blink of an eye, and the wretch's foot was fastened. Having now got his food, the fox's surprise was great. In the morning the man, having rested well, dressed himself, and was suddenly reminded of his old routine. He went out to attend to his hunting, whereupon seeing that the clever sheep-eater was caught as fast in the trap as possible, and that he did not move at all, he gave the dead prey a kick. The joyful man found no spark of life in the fox and, opening the trap's jaws, he took the body, throwing it on the ground, and instantly the fox leaped to his feet. He then struck the fox's back with his hand, which started a fight between them. The fox, finding this a bad lot, now scratched and injured the pious man on his lips, hand, chin and nose, and wherever he could bite him. As the man felt the excruciating pain, his energy drained away, whereas the fox returns back to his territory.
4.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Kveð ég um kvinnu eina, á Kristí dögum þessi var, gjörir þar ritning greina, glögglega hvern sjúkdóm bar. Þá fljóðið snerti faldinn Jesú klæða, hvarf í burtu margfalt mein, sem menja rein, tólf ár mjög nam mæða. Þegar pínu þoldi þreyttur Jesús fyrir oss, víst í voru holdi varð hann þá að bera sinn kross. Fjórtán hundruð faðma lærðir segja herrans kvalavegurinn var, hann varð svo þar veikur við að þreyja. Kvalinn með krossins byrði Kristur Jesús þrisvar hratt, falla frá ég yrði, fjallið var svo ofurbratt, augun voru orðin full af blóði, vanmáttugur varla sá, hvar vegurinn lá, græðarinn vor hinn góði. Hjá vegamóti mættu margar kvinnur Jesú þá, glöggt að öllu gættu, greint er ein þeim væri hjá, Veroníka vilja sumir kalla, sú sem áður blóðfall bar, nú brúði var hægt um hjartað varla. Kvinnan rétti Kristi klút að þerra augun með, lausnarann vorn því lysti að láta það svo vera skeð. Eftir stóð þar andlitsmyndin hreina, lituð blóði líndúk á með líking þá, sem bót varð margra meina. Dúknum drósin unni, Drottin heitt því elska réð, af honum augun kunni aldrei hafa gráti með. Menn því græddi marga baugalína. Vífið ekkert veraldlegt svo virti frekt alla ævi sína. Vísir vilja segja Veroníka hafi um síð í flokki margra meyja misst og lífið í þann tíð, pínslarvættis prýdd kórónu væri; kristilega bauga brú með bæn og trú héðan af heimi færi. English I sing verses of one lady who lived in the days of Christ. I recount the Bible story telling us of her illness. She then touched the fold of Jesus' garment, making her unbearable sickness disappear, with which that same lady had been greatly afflicted for twelve years. As Jesus was suffering his passion for us, in his fatigue, forsooth, he had to carry his cross in our human flesh. The learn'd say the Lord's road of suffering was fourteen hundred fathoms, and thus he had to suffer patiently in his weakness. I heard that, agonised by the burden of the cross, Christ Jesus suddenly stumbled three times, the mountain being so very steep His eyes were by then full with blood, so our good healer could hardly see where the road was leading. Then, at a crossroads, many women met with Jesus. They observed everything keenly, and it is said there was one of them, called by some Veronica, the same who earlier on had been sick with haemorrhaging; now that lady was hardly feeling well in her heart. The woman gave to Christ a cloth to dry his eyes, as it had been the will of our Redeemer to let this happen. An impression of the pure countenance was left, painted with blood, on the cloth. By means of the image many an illness was cured. The woman loved the cloth, as she loved the Lord, affectionately. She could never take her eyes off it without crying. Therefore, she healed many people. The lady loved nothing in this world so intensely for the rest of her life. Some wise men say that Veronica, eventually, along with many other virgins, lost her life in that age and that she was adorned with the crown of martyrdom. Moreover, that the lady left this world in her Christian way, in prayer and faith.
5.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Konan blessuð kemst á stjá. Kærleik meður fínum grautardiskum gengur frá. Gætir að hjúum sínum. English Blessed lady arises. With kindness fine, clears away the gruel dishes. Takes care of her servants.
6.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Mitt var starfið hér í heim heita og kalda daga að skeina krakka og kemba þeim og keppast við að staga. Ég þráði að leika lausu við sem lamb um grænan haga, en þeim eru ekki gefin grið sem götin eiga að staga. Langaði mig að lesa blóm um langa og bjarta daga, en þörfin kvað með þrumuróm: “Þér er nær að staga.” Heimurinn átti harðan dóm að hengja á mína snaga, hvað ég væri kostatóm og kjörin til að staga. Komi hel með kutann sinn og korti mína daga, ég held það verði hlutur minn í helvíti að staga. English My work, in a world of hot and cold days, was to clean and comb kids and to toil away darning. I longed to play freely like a lamb in a green meadow, but those who have holes to darn are not shown any mercy. I longed to read the flowers on long, bright sunny days, but necessity ordered in a thunderous voice: "You should be darning." The world had a heavy doom to hang upon my hook. Of qualities I was void and for darning I was born. Should death come with his knife and shorten my days. I think it will be my fate to darn away in hell.
7.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Glitrar dögg í grænum lund gaman er á vorin. Á yndislegri óskastund átti ég hingað sporin. Loftið er svo létt og tært, lind í gili streymir. Blessuð sólin brosir skært blómi engu gleymir. Aldrei slíkan frið ég fann, fuglar hreiður gera. Hér er allt sem hjartað ann, hér er gott að vera. Horfna gleði hér ég finn og hvíld í sólskininu. Hýr og léttur hugur minn hlær við góðviðrinu. English Dew glistens in a green grove. Spirits lift in springtime. In a lovely wished for moment I walked this way. The air is so light and clear. A brook streams in the gully. The blessed sun smiles brightly not forgetting any flower. Never before such peace I found. Birds build their nests. Here is all the heart loves. Here it is good to be. Lost joy here I find and peace in the sunshine. Happy and light my mind laughs with the good weather.
8.
Lilja - Lily 03:40
Almáttugr Guð allra stétta, yfirbjóðandi engla og þjóða, ei þurfandi stað né stundir, staði haldandi kyrrleiks valdi, senn verandi úti og inni, uppi og niðri og þar í miðju, lof sé þér um aldr og ævi, eining sönn í þrennum greinum. Ættum vér á Jesúm drottinn efunarlaust með fullu trausti út af hjartans innstum rótum allir senn með gráti að kalla. Sé þér dýrð með sannri prýði, sunginn heiðr af öllum tungum eilíflega með sigri og sælu, sæmd og vald þitt minnkast aldrei. Heyr þú mig nú, himins og jarðar háleit byggðin allra dyggða, megindrottning manna og engla, móðir Guðs og blessun þjóða: Þá eg mæðumst í nógum nauðum, nálæg vert þú minni sálu, vef þú ágætu verndarskauti, von mín sönn, er hjálpar mönnum. English Almighty God of all creation, great Lord over all angels and nations, being independent of places or hours, keeping all places in the power of Thy tranquillity, being simultaneously inside and outside, up and down and in the middle, praise be to Thee for ever and ever, true Unity in Trinity. We should all implore Jesus the Lord, without the least doubt, and with full confidence, from the innermost roots of the heart, yea, all of us at the same time, with tears. Glory to Thee, with true splendour, honour be sung to Thee in all tongues, eternally, victoriously, blissfully, Thy fame and power never diminishing. Hear me now, exalted abode of all virtues of heaven and earth, High Queen of humans and angels, Mother of God, a blessing to the nations: when I have become weary of many afflictions, be close to my soul, embracing me in your protective lap, my true hope, helper of human kind.
9.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Hættu að gráta hringaná heyrðu ræðu mína. Ég skal gefa þér gull í tá þó Grímur taki þína. Hættu að gráta hringaná huggun er það meiri. Ég skal gefa þér gull í tá þó Grímur taki fleiri. Hættu að gráta hringaná huggun má það kalla. Ég skal gefa þér gull í tá þó Grímur taki þær allar. English Cry not young maid. Listen to my words I shall give you gold for a toe ‘though Grímur takes yours. Cry not young maid. There is more comfort to come. I shall give you gold for a toe ‘though Grímur takes more. Cry not young maid. Comfort it may be called. I shall give you gold for a toe 'though Grímur takes them all.
10.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Sumri hallar, svanir gjalla, sölnar fjalladrottning blá. Heiðin kallar ykkur alla innstu fjallatinda að sjá. Það er malað, þorsta svalað, þreknir halir fara á stjá. Öllu smalað, hlegið, hjalað, hóað, galað rakkann á. Fjallageimur, fagri heimur, frjálst er sveimað þar í draum. Kvæðaseimur, klár á tveimur, komið er heim úr þessum glaum. English Summer tilts away, swans call. Mountain queen blue withers away. The moors call you all the inmost peaks to see. People chatting. Thirst quenched, strong men rise to go. Much is herded, laughing, gossiping, hailing, yelling at the dog. Mountain spaces, beautiful world, freely roam there in a dream. The sound of verse. On two horses he has come home from this merriment.
11.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Gefið þið mér í staupi strax stirðan háls að væta, annars verð ég ei til taks óðar þráð að tæta,- þungt er mér um mál; en ef Bakkus í mig fer, eg fæ munn sem stál; þá er ég viss á móti mér að mana sánkti Pál. Hér er kvenfólk, hér er vín, hér er nóg til gleði; kalli nú hver á sætu sín, setjist niður og kveði- eða á eitthvert sprund, “ekki´ er undir einum skjól” ofurlitla stund. Töpuð er mín tvinna sól, ég tek þá næstu í mund. English Give me a dram of wine, without delay, to wet my rusty throat, or else I will not be available to weave the threads of my ode, as I find difficulty in talking. However, if Bacchus enters me, I soon get a mouth like steel, and I am sure to provoke St Paul against me! Here are the ladies, here is wine, here we are joyful enough. Now let everyone call upon his sweetheart, to sit down and recite some poetry, or else call some maiden, "There is no shelter with one" for the short while! My woman has got lost, I take the next one in my hand!
12.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Veruleikann varla flý, verða harðar glímur. Upp mun rísa enn á ný annar Skalla-Grímur. Hárskerinn af hausnum skóf hárið fagurbúna. Sem gyðingur hjá Gestapó Gríms er útlit núna. Aldrei skal ég missa móð mig áfram að keyra. Það skal enginn æðruhljóð í mér fá að heyra. Gatstunginn er garmurinn gengur rykkjótt lækningin. Blárósóttur búkurinn, beyglaður er karlanginn. Kveða niður kvölina þá kroppurinn var heltekinn. Yrkja frá sér eymdina allra best var lækningin. Ef við göngum nærri grát gott er skap að eggja. Aldrei skulum upp í bát árar fara að leggja. Vonin gefur veikum þrótt, vonin hugann glæðir. Vonin birtu veitir gnótt, vonin kvíðann bræðir. English Reality I can hardly escape, it will be a hard fight. Up will rise a second Grímur the bald. From my head the barber shaved my beautiful hair. Grímur now looks Like a jew with the Gestapo. Never shall I lose heart force myself onwards. No talk of death will be heard from me. Stuck full of holes this weakling is. Spasmodic is the cure. Black and blue this body is. Battered is this poor old man. Shake off the pain when the body is overcome. To write away the misery was the best cure of all. If we walk close to tears it is good to challenge the spirit. I shall never lay my oars down to rest in my boat. Hope gives the weak strength. Hope enlivens the mind. Hope gives abundant brightness. Hope melts away the fear.
13.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Að minni sálu amar svo ógurlega margt úti er gleði og gaman gefist ei bótin snart. Sjálf ber hún með sér hungrið hart skortir sitt brúðarskart og skin Guðs náðar bjart. Hvert skal ég hælis leita henni svo verði frítt þó heimur vilji veita vegsemd og skjólið sitt, ekki á slíkt við meinið mitt. Það er fals fagur litt fellur í dauðans pytt. Eg veit af tré því einu sem eðla vex úr rót, fagurt með fjórslags greinum og fullt af heilsubót, breiðir ávöxt og blöðin mót af því með andleg hót minn örva ég sálarfót. Sést á þess stefni sama setrus og vínviðsgrein, pálmi sem illu amar og ólívukvistinn hrein. Þeirra aldini mýkir mein, Þar liggur að þjóðbraut ein þröng mjög en holl og hrein. Tré þetta tólfháttuðum tærir ávexti af sér, senn með hvorum mánuði, mikil sú frjóvgun er. Sérhvert laufblaðið sem það ber heilsubót heiðnum lér, heilög ritning það tér. English My soul is beset by woes awful and untold, fun and joy are forgone if no remedy is found. Sore pangs of hunger it bears, lacking its bridal prize and God's bright shining grace. Where is refuge to be sought that it shall be set free though the world confer its honours and sanctuary, such will not soothe my hurt. That is frippery painted bright and will fall into death's pit. I know of a single tree rooted in nobility, fair with its fourfold branches and wholesome to the full, spreading fruit and leaves for with the spirit's sign I stir my soul to move. On its trunk behold branches of citrus and vines, palm that comforts ills and pure olive boughs. All harm their fruits will soothe towards it leads the path so narrow but full of health. This twelve fold tree sheds its fruit, fast in every month, great is its fertility. Every leaf that it bears heals the heathen's cares, holy scripture swears.
14.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Yfir landið geisar golan gulu stráin svigna þá af snjó og frera fyllist holan fjúkið skýlir jarðarbrá. Færir núna fjöllin há í fagra rauða kjólinn. Hún er orðin ósköp lág elsku besta sólin. Sólin hækkar fönnum fækkar fossar stækka brúnum á . Um móa flakka feitir rakkar freri slaknar vötnum á. Nú er sól á himni hátt horfir á skýjarafið. Þokuslæðan læðist lágt leggst hún yfir hafið. English Across the land the breeze sweeps. Yellow grasses then bend under snow and frost fills the hollow. Snow drifts shield the earth's cheek. Brings the mountains high a red dress. So low in the sky our beloved sun is. Sun climbs, snow recedes. Waterfalls over cliff edges swell. Fat dogs roam across the moors. Frost slackens in the lake. Now the sun, high in the sky, watches the clouds. Trailing mist creeps in low lies over the sea.
15.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Ég skal vaka og vera góð vininum mínum smáa, meðan óttan rennur rjóð, roðar kambinn bláa og Harpa sýngur hörpuljóð á hörpulaufið gráa. Stundum var í vetur leið veðrasamt á glugga; var ekki einsog væri um skeið vofa í hverjum skugga? Fáir vissu að vorið beið og vorið kemur að hugga. Sumir fóru fyrir jól, -fluttust burt úr landi, heillum snauðir heims um ból hús þeir byggja á sandi. Í útlöndum er ekkert skjól, -eilífur stormbeljandi. Þar er auðsýnt þurradramb þeim sem út er borinn, eingin sól rís yfir kamb yfir döggvuð sporin. Þar sést hvorki lítið lamb né lambagras á vorin. Þá er börnum betra hér við bæarlækinn smáa, í túninu þar sem trippið er. Tvævetluna gráa skal ég góði gefa þér og gimbilinn hennar fráa. Og ef þig dreymir ástin mín, Oslóborg og Róma, vængjaðan hest sem hleypur og skín, hleypur og skín með sóma, eg skal gefa þér upp á grín alt með sykri og rjóma. Einsog hún gaf þér íslenskt blóð, úngi draumsnillíngur, megi loks hin litla þjóð leggja á hvarm þér fíngur, -á meðan Harpa hörpuljóð á hörpulaufið sýngur. English I shall wake and be good to my friends small, while fear runs red the blue peaks flush and Harpa sings a song of spring on the grey harp leaf. Sometimes in the winter past weather beat the window; was it not, just for a time, as if wraithes hid in every shadow? Few knew that spring awaited and the spring comes to comfort. Some they left before Christmas moved out of the country, comfortless, around the world houses they build on sand. In other lands no shelter find endless storm a-raging. It is clearly hollow joy for those who are outcasted. No sun rise above the peaks over dewey footprints. There they see no little lamb or moss campion in springtime. It´s better then for bairns to be by the village brook-let in the field where the colt is. The grey of two winters I will, my friend, give to you and her foal so swift. And if, my darling, dreams you dream of Oslo and of Rome. A winged horse that gallops and shines, gallops and shines so greatly, then I will give you just for fun your fare with sugar and cream. As she gave you Iceland´s blood, my young and clever dreamer may at last this nation small dry away your teardrops, while Harpa sings a song of spring upon the harp leaf.
16.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Mína þá mundi´eg þenja vængi út, ef að sjá einhvers staðar mætti kút, hverjum af aldrei þryti brennivín; þar á kaf kýs ég fari sálin mín. English I would spread out my wings, if I could see a cask anywhere. A cask of never ending spirit; there, submerged, I would choose to send my soul.
17.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Heimi er farið að halla, í helið girnist falla; kvöl má stærstu kalla, kúgunin drepur alla; blessun ágirnd slysar slyng, slóttug orðin gjalla, málum réttum þrykkja þing, þverúð dóma spjalla; kærleiksleysið kefur dáð, kveikir alls kyns banvæn ráð, nemur náð svo heift og háð, hylur tinda fjalla; björg er af landi flett og fláð, en flærð og svik ef að er gáð, hauðrið hrjáð, fyrir báli bráð og býsna drífu salla, er hleðst á holtastalla og hvíta jökulskalla, hraunkalla með galla. Stríðin emja, lýðinn lemja, löndin kónga og jarla. Þussar í bölvun bralla, bugar þá hefndin varla. English The world is waning, desirous of falling into hell, which may be called the greatest torture, the oppression kills everyone; the clever covetousness harms the blessing, the sly words are resounding, suppressing good causes at the assemblies,* spoiling judgements with impenitence. Lack of charity overwhelms good deeds, igniting all sorts of lethal advice, so grace becomes the recipient of spite and irony, covering the valleys to the mountaintops. All means of subsistence are stripped and flayed off the land, leaving only guile and treachery, if you look for it; the land is afflicted, as well as the prey by the wild storms and the heavy downfall of drifting snow being loaded on the terraces of stony hills, on the bald white heads of the glaciers and the badly formed lava trolls.** The wars are raging, flogging the people, in the lands of kings and of earls. The dunces are devising their damned schemes, hardly held back by revenge.
18.
English lyrics follow the Icelandic ones. Árið hýra nú hið nýja náðar góður sendi landi voru Guð. Þrautir láti frá oss flýja, fargi sorgum, endi grand og eyði nauð. Alla fylli gleði-gæðum gæska´ og miskunn drottins blíð, í fastri ást og friði´ af hæðum stöðugir stæðum; oss hann blessi ár og síð. Yfir-ljúfa menn á minnist mildi-valdur drottinn, máttar herra hár, siðaprúðir sannleik kynnist, syninum þjóni, létti þrátt og bræðin sár; öll í stilling lögin lagi, ljúfir, gæfir fróma við, lasta síst þó vegi vægi, hneigi hagi, að góðir lýðir finni frið. Raunir hjóna mjúkust mýki miskunn ferska græðarans lýða fyrr og síð; þolgeð helgað vaki; víki vílið, volið, neyðin, kvíði, hverfi stríð; börnin einninn blíður náði og blessun vissa láti fá; faðirinn dáða´ í friðar ráði leiði á láði með lífi´ og gæfu stóra´ og smá. Oss nú blessi græðarinn góður, og gáfur ljúfar sínar hreinar einninn með: láðið, löður gæði gróður, glatt sé loft, ei píni neinar plágur féð; neytum ætíð lítillátir. Lofið gefið drottins náð. Í Guði blíðum kætumst kátir, mætast mát er holl þau allir reyni ráð. Unni sannur oss og blessi, öllum heillum fylli, sæll Emanúel. Í kvíða, neyð og krossi hressi, þá kvilla-fullum vill ódæll hér vinna vél. Svinnir menn og myndug kvendi, máttugan drottinn lofið títt, honum einum oss afhendi, amen, sendi yður Jesús árið blítt. English May God, the good and gracious, now send to our land a mild new year. May He drive all hardship away from us, do away with grief, calamity, and affliction. May He fill all with the benefits of joy, the Lord in His mild and merciful goodness. In His constant love and peace from above we should be able to prevail May He bless us forever. May the Lord, ruling with mercy, the mighty exalted Lord be mindful of humbly amiable men. May men adorned with good morals find the truth, serve the Son; cease from their strife and chagrin. May they adjust their laws in moderation, and be gentle and kind to the pious ones, and yet, least of all, be lenient to the ways of vice. May they order their affairs so that kind-hearted people will find peace. May the most gentle mercy of the ever-new Healer ease marital troubles forever; keep awake our sanctified patience; let wailing, whining and anxiety give way, and contentions disappear. Moreover, may the gentle Lord be graceful to the children, giving them assured blessing. May the Father of good acts, in his dispensation of peace, guide us in this land, in the life and good fortune of small ones as well as grown-ups. May the good Healer now bless us, with His pure and gentle gifts. As well may He yield fruitfulness to the land and sea; may the air be clean, and no plagues afflict our sheep,* may we humbly consume our food. Give praise to the grace of our Lord! Let us all be full of joy and cheer in our merciful God. It is a moderation of the greatest value that everyone will try those devices. May the blessed Emmanuel love us and give us His blessing, fill us with His good fortune in anxiety and need. May He refresh us with His cross, when obnoxious men wish to deceive those living in anxiety. Wise men and respectable women, praise the mighty Lord frequently, and, from Him alone, may Jesus provide us with and send us a year so mild. Amen.

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This is the first FUNI album. It features 18 tracks of Icelandic traditional songs and hymns. It comes in a beautifully designed 3 fold digipak with a 36 page illustrated booklet containing notes about the songs and full lyrics in both Icelandic and English.

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released June 1, 2004

Bára Grímsdóttir - vocals and kantele
Chris Foster - guitar and bass guitar
John Kirkpatrick - Button Accordion and concertina
Dave Wood - Íslensk fiðla

Produced by Bára Grímsdóttir and Chris Foster
Recorded mixed and mastered by Dave Wood at his Broad Oak Studio, Herefordshire, England.
Design by Inga Elsa Bergþórsdóttir

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FUNI Reykjavik, Iceland

FUNI, an old Icelandic word meaning flame or fire, are Bára Grímsdóttir & Chris Foster. Since 2001, they have been breathing new life into great songs that have been hidden away in old recordings, old books and manuscripts for too long. They also add new songs to the tradition. Bára and Chris tour widely in Europe, as well as Iceland and Britain. They have also played in China and the USA. ... more

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