Mari Kalkun - Mu välläkoolõmise pääl kiil (EMA - Estonian Music Awards 2024)

"Mu välläkoolõmise pääl kiil" live Eesti Muusikaauhinnad 2024 galal Unibet Arenal / "My Dying Language" at the Estonian Music Awards gala 2024 at Unibet Arena
Muusika/music: Mari Kalkun
Sõnad/lyrics: Triinu Laan, Kristjan Jaak Peterson, trad.
Laul albumilt "Stoonia lood" / The song is from the album 'Stories of Stonia'
Kuula albumit / Listen to the album: lnk.to/RW254
Follow Mari on Instagram: / marikalkun
Follow Mari on Facebook: / marikalkunmusic
www.marikalkun.com
A musically and lyrically multi-layered song expressing the worry and thoughts about
my mother tongues - Estonian and Võro - both of them rather small in the context
of the world. We are not sure if the destiny of these languages is to live or die in
future. As is said in the song lyrics, it is not certain whether we are at the wedding or
funeral. These lyrics are written by contemporary Võro poet Triinu Laan. A line from
the first poem published in Estonian (1818 by Kristjan Jaak Peterson) is used in the
choral component of the song as well as an archive recording from 1936, taken from
the Estonian Folklore Archives.
Record Label: Real World Records
Management: Marili Jõgi, Moon Management
Contact: [e-mail] / [e-mail]
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SÕNAD / Mu välläkoolõmise pääl kiil
Kas siis selle maa keel
taevani tõustes üles...?
Mu välläkoolõmisõ pääl kiilt tahtsõt, et opanu,
minkast mi edevanõmbidõ mõttõ’,
inneskidse’ hummogu’, õdagu’, päävä’ ja üü’,
unõ’ löüdä saa
Kõnõlda koolõmisõ, unõhtamisõ pääl
hummokit, õdakit, päivi ja öid,
unni inne näide häömist.
Ikust saa naar, surmast elo ja mu kiil eläs viil.
Eläse’ inneskidse’ hummogu’, õdagu’, päävä’ ja üü’, unõ’,
edevanõmbidõ mõttõ’.
Määndseh keeleh tulnu kõnõlda keelest,
miä ei tiiä, kas timä saatus om ellä’ vai koolda’?
--
Terve Triinu Laane luuletus on leitav:
www.marikalkun...
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LYRICS / My Dying Language
The language of this land
will it raise to the heavens...?
You wanted me to teach you
My dying language
From where one can find
The thoughts of our ancestors
Bygone mornings, evenings,
Days and nights,
Dreams.
To speak while dying, falling into oblivion
Of mornings, evenings, days and nights
Of dreams before they disappear.
Tears turn to laughter, death to life
And my language still lives on.
And past mornings, evenings,
Days and nights,
Dreams
The thoughts of ancestors
Live on.
In what language should one speak about a language
That does not know if it is destined to live or die?
--
Full poem of poem of Triinu Laan to be found here.
www.marikalkun...

[@hgcollective]

see you at @womadelaide 😍😍😍😍