by Lissa-Käthe

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This journey of traditional and original music, will take you from my Nordic roots to the pull of my ancestors of the highlands, castles and the mystical Calanais standing stones on the Isle of Lewis, Scotland, where my heart lies in the landscape of the Celts.


released October 30, 2018

Recorded, Mixed, Produced by Lissa-Kathe


all rights reserved




Lissa-Kathe is a Celtic folk harpist, composer, singer-songwriter. As well as her original works, she arranges traditional tunes and songs and adorns poetry and verse to music. Adding to her harps and piano she plays the myriad of instruments for her creations, including guitar, recorder, bodhrán, bells & percussion, accordions, synth,all vocals and more. She is a creative teacher also. ... more

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Track Name: Kun Mun Kultani Tulisi
Kun Mun Kultani Tulisi (Finnish Trad)
Kun mun kultani tulisi,
armahani asteleisi,
tuntisin ma tuon tulosta,
arvoaisin astunnasta,
jos ois vielä virstan päässä
tahikka kahen takana.
Utuna ulos menisin,
savuna pihalle saisin,
kipunoina kiiättäisin,
liekkinä lehauttaisin;
vierren vierehen menisin,
supostellen suun etehen.
Tok' mie kättä käppäjäisin,
vaikk' ois käärme kämmenellä;
tok' mie suuta suikkajaisin,
vaikk' ois surma suun edessä;
tok' mie kaulahln kapuisin,
vaikk' ois kalma kaulaluilla;
tok' mie vierehen viruisin,
vaikk' ois vierus verta täynnä.
Vaanp' ei ole kullallani,
ei ole suu suen veressä,
käet käärmehen talissa,
kaula kalman tarttumissa;
suu on rasvasta sulasta,
huulet kuin hunajameestä,
käet kultaiset, koriat,
kaula kuin kanervan varsi.
Track Name: Gröne Lunden
Gröne Lunden (Sweedish Trad)

Och uti gröne Lunden, där dansar ett par
Och uti gröne Lunden, där dansar ett par
Den ena var vännen, den andra var Jag
Den ena var vännen, den andra var Jag
Track Name: Twa Corbies
Twa Corbies - Trad

As I was walking all alane,
I heard twa corbies making a mane;
The tane unto the t'other say,
'Where sall we gang and dine to-day?'

'In behint yon auld fail dyke,
I wot there lies a new slain knight;
And naebody kens that he lies there,
But his hawk, his hound, and lady fair.

'His hound is to the hunting gane,
His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,
His lady's ta'en another mate,
So we may mak our dinner sweet.

'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,
And I'll pike out his bonny blue een;
Wi ae lock o his gowden hair
We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.

'Mony a one for him makes mane,
But nane sall ken where he is gane;
Oer his white banes, when they are bare,
The wind sall blaw for evermair.'

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