The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #95865 Message #1869690
Posted By: Joe Offer
27-Oct-06 - 12:51 AM
Thread Name: Lyr Req: Saben, the Woodfitter (Gordon Bok)
Subject: ADD: Saben, the Woodfitter (Bok)
Saben, the Woodfitter (Gordon Bok)
When Saben the Woodfitter came for the last time west on the western ocean, he came alone. And he was an old man then, and the boat was old.
And so for the last time the black boat ran, swung to the westward night on day, needing neither helm nor sail-trimming, the wind behind her.
And then one day the old man looked, and he saw the water coming into her. So then by the day he'd bail and by the night he'd sleep with his hand on her keelson, to see when the water came.
And, sleeping, he heard the bell sounding the watch, and he dreamed about the boat. He dreamed he saw her building, and he dreamed he saw her fishing, and he dreamed he saw her dying in the sea.
And he rose and he went out on deck, and he said to the old black boat: "Now, old boat, I don't care for myself if ever we reach the shore or not, but you have served me well and kindly all these many years, and I don't want you dying in the sea.
"So I make a bargain with you: If you will hold yourself together just a few days more, until we reach the land, I promise you that I'll take you apart as well as I ever put you together, plank off plank and timber from timber, and you'll never serve a man again."
And the black boat said: "Now, old man, gladly have we served each other all these many years, and gladly would I serve thee for a few days more."
And they say she took him home then, put him on the shore. She gave him her timbers to build his house, her plank for his wall and her keel for his rooftree, and she wrapped him up in her old brown sail and laid him down, sang him to sleep while the winter wind came off the western ocean:
East wind's rain and north wind's clearing, Cold old southwest wind's a fair wind horns.
One bell, two bells, don't go grieving, All our bad times past and blown alee.
Stars thy compass, cloud thy canvas, Rock thy keelson, wind thy course to steer.
One bell, two bells, don't go grieving, All our bad times past and blown alee.
From the songbook Time and the Flying Snow: Songs of Gordon Bok, Folk-Legacy Records, 1977