KN Julius
Panel 5

The K. N. Julius panel and memorial is a dedication to this great poet and beloved community member.

The inscription on the monument to K.N. reads:

The Satirical Poet
Born to make tears few...
The mocking flashes of your verses,
lighten and renew the spirit.
So dream about the beautiful fjord,
and your beautiful childhood home
in the countryside.

Kristján Níels Jónsson Júlíus (1859-1936), a satirical poet, was born in Akureyri, Iceland. He immigrated to North America in 1878 spending his first few years in Canada. Known as K.N. / Káinn (pronounced Kow-Enn) he labored as a farm hand for most of his adult life in our rural community and was never married. Many of the graves in the Thingvalla Cemetery were dug by him.

                K. N. Julius was a unique, beloved poet and humorist. His drinking songs and poems may have contributed to his reputation as a heavy drinker. A complete collection, Kviðlingar og kvæðí(Ditties and Poems) was published in 1945, edited by Richard Beck. The original book, Kviðlingar was published in 1920.

                He composed many obituaries and always had a poem for every occasion. Beyond his mischievous tone in his poems, he also portrays warmth and wisdom combining both the English and Icelandic language. His monument, originally built in 1940, was reconstructed in 1999. The following description of K. N. is taken from an old news clipping:

      “He went at his task as if he were making up a bed for a tired friend, said his close friend, Dr. Rögnvaldur Pétursson, and most of those buried there were the poet’s personal friends.

      Here, he too, rests now on the grassy flat, with a small stone at his head, and at the side of the church stands a stately monument bearing his likeness. It was placed there by his friends and admirers in the United States and Canada, but designed by his neighbors, who thankfully remember the poet whose gentle humor lightened their burdens and eased their struggles for half a century, brought sunshine into their homes, and was an ever active geysir of fun and easy, original wit.

      Poor as he was in terms of material possessions, K.N. enriched these communities and influenced their cultural atmosphere as no other man has.”

Little Christine Geir 

Síðan fyrst ég sá þig hér,
sólskin þarf ég minna.
Gegnum lífið lýsir mér
ljósið augna þinna.

Since the first I saw you here
My need for sunlight dwindled.
The light for my life´s path is by,
The light in your eyes kindled.

(Translated by Magnus Olafson)

Anna Geir was a widow with five young children. When K. N. arrived in Pembina County, he was searching for work. He was informed about the family’s situation and the rest is history.

Annan Agúst

Margur þaðan fullur fór
Freyddí á skálum malt og bjór;
Því báðir seldu, Dóri og Sveinn.

Kvennfólk var með kaffisull,
Karlmenn fluttu ræðubull,
Þar var söngur, þar var dans,
Par var eg og Séra Hans.

 

The Second of August

Many were drunk when they went from here,
From the bowls that were foaming with malt and beer.
Whiskey was easy to obtain,
For both were selling, Dori and Sveinn.

The women were serving coffee swill,
Of men´s foolish speeches all had their fill.
There was song, and there was dance,
There was I and Reverend Hans. (MO)

 This is an example of K.N.’s satire and his mischievousness as Reverend Hans Thorgrimsen was strongly against drinking alcohol.

Dakota Sunshine

When the winter winds have waned
And warm breezes play
What a lovely sight to see
The sunshine on your day.

If in Dakota land you dwell,
And harvesters you meet
What a lovely sight to see
The sunshine on the wheat.

When the meadows have been cut,
and in rows it lay,
What a lovely sight to see
The sunshine on the hay.

If you hunger for a treat
And fish is what you like,
What a lovely sight to see
The sunshine on the pike.

When you want a glass of milk,
Oh, you may raise your brow;
But it’s a lovely sight to see
The sunshine on the cow.

If alcohol is hard to get
And you feel ill, alas,
What a lovely sight to see
The sunshine on the glass.

When women do their finest clothes
And brush their silken tresses,
It’s a lovely sight to see
The sunshine on their dresses.

If you are in the house of God
To worship or to feast;
What a lovely sight to see
The sunshine on the priest.

Though the nuggets may be few
That ever reach your pan;
It is a lovely sight to see
The sunshine on the man.

And though my struggles never cease,
and from my pain, I pine,
A sorry sight t’would be indeed
A sun that did not shine.

So when at last I’m laid to rest,
Earth claims my flesh and bone,
What a lovely sight to see
The sunshine on my stone.
(Translated by Gudrun Hanson)