(Pray, child, pray, tomorrow the Swede will come [from the 30 year war])
and
Eya popeya popole, Unser Herrgottche wird dich bald hole, Kömmt er mit dem gulderne Lädche, Legt dich hinunter ins Gräbche: Über mich, Über dich, Kummer mitnander ins Himmelrich!
(Eya popeya popole,
Our Lord God will soon come for you,
He comes with the golden cart,
Lays you down in the little grave:
Over me,
Over you,
Together we’ll go into the Kingdom of Heaven!)
Some nursery rhymes:
Bet’, Kindchen, bet’. Morgen kommt der Schwed’.
(Pray, child, pray, tomorrow the Swede will come [from the 30 year war])
and
Eya popeya popole, Unser Herrgottche wird dich bald hole, Kömmt er mit dem gulderne Lädche, Legt dich hinunter ins Gräbche: Über mich, Über dich, Kummer mitnander ins Himmelrich!
(Eya popeya popole, Our Lord God will soon come for you, He comes with the golden cart, Lays you down in the little grave: Over me, Over you, Together we’ll go into the Kingdom of Heaven!)
Lullabies that are pretty grim seem to be a thing in a lot of cultures. I read an article from the university of Oslo about that recently.
The Icelanders can beat that; a traditional Icelandic lullaby translates as “sleep, you black-eyed pig, and fall into a deep pit full of ghosts”
I remember that German lullaby which goes
“Tomorrow, if god allows it, you will awake again.”
Way to give me existential dread as a child 😂 Like, this god guy could kill me in my sleep, or what?
As a father of two, I get the sentiment 🤷♂️
Vikings living up to their reputation. 😁