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Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English

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Ideas for Mudcat Singaround 2nd Birthday-June 6 (33)


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Monique 06 Feb 23 - 02:09 PM
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Monique 27 Feb 23 - 01:51 PM
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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 31 Jan 23 - 06:22 PM

EL VAQUERITO / YO SOY UN POBRE VAQUERO (Spanish)

Yo soy un pobre vaquero
Que no tiene ni alpargatas;
Pero me las voy a hacer
Con "pellejo 'e garrapatas"

Yo soy un pobre vaquero
Que no tiene ni alpargatas;
Pero me las voy a hacer
Con "pellejo 'e garrapatas", tan, tan

Que cantaba la rana, tan, tan
Que debajo del agua, tan, tan
Que cantaba la rana, tan, tan
Que debajo del agua.

Vaquerito, vaquerito
Pide mies al mayoral,
Que el ganado se te pierde
Que el ganado se te va.

Cada vez que te veo venir
Le digo a mi corazón
Qué bonita "piedrecita"
Para darme un tropezón
THE LITTLE COWBOY / I AM A POOR COWBOY

I am a poor cowboy
Who doesn't even have rope-soled sandals
But I'm going to make me some
With ticks' skin*

I am a poor cowboy
Who doesn't even have rope-soled sandals
But I'm going to do me some
With ticks' skin, tan, tan

The frog was singing, tan, tan**
Underneath the water, tan, tan
The frog was singing, tan, tan
Underneath the water.

Little cowboy, little cowboy,
Ask the head shepherd/farm manager for grain
For your cattle is getting lost
For your cattle is going away.

Every time I see you come,
I say to my heart
"What a pretty little stone
To stumble against!"
*"pellejo de garrapatas" this can be understood if you know a longer version of this song that you can listen to here sung by Óscar Chávez. The poor cowboy plans to make every item he's lacking with the hide/skin of any animal whose name rhymes with the name of said item.
** Reference to the chidren's song La rana cucú ("Cucú, cantaba la rana / Cucú, debajo del agua…")

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 06 Feb 23 - 02:09 PM

From the extract in English by Robert Paquin in Le testament du garçon empoisonné, un Lord Randal français en Acadie -the whole article is in French but there's an extract in English at the bottom of the document. Here is part of it...
"Versions of a French ballad collected on the east coast of Canada (Acadie) are compared to Child No. 12, Lord Randal. The French ballad, "Le testament du garçon empoisonné" is shown to be a popular translation resulting from the folk cultural exchanges that occurred in Canada, either in lumber camps or among mixed (i.e. French-English) families. This French ballad has no ancestor in France, but a French Lord Randal does exist among the displaced "Cajuns" of Louisiana. While it is impossible to identify a unique source for the French Testament, the Louisiana version seems to be the work of a literate craftsman whose source can be clearly traced to Child D version, first published in Scott’s Minstrelsy."
HONORÉ, MON ENFANT (French)

Où qu' t'as été hier au soir, Honoré, mon enfant ? (x2)
J'ai été voir les filles, Maman faisez mon lit
Car j'ai grand mal au cœur, je veux aller me coucher.

Mais où sont tes deux chiens, Honoré, mon enfant ? (x2)
Sont morts après souper, Maman faisez mon lit
Car j'ai grand mal au cœur, je veux aller me coucher.

Mais qu'as-tu donc mangé, Honoré, mon enfant ? (x2)
Un p' tit poisson salé, Maman faisez mon lit
Car j'ai grand mal au cœur, je veux aller me coucher.

Que laisseras-tu à ton père, Honoré, mon enfant ? (x2)
Ma terre et ma maison, Maman faisez mon lit
Car j'ai grand mal au cœur, je veux aller me coucher.

Que laisseras-tu à ta mère, Honoré, mon enfant ? (x2)
Mes habits, mon trousseau, Maman faisez mon lit
Car j'ai grand mal au cœur, je veux aller me coucher.

Que laisseras-tu à ton frère, Honoré, mon enfant ? (x2)
Ma selle et mon cheval, ma montre et mes souliers.
Car j'ai grand mal au cœur, je veux aller me coucher.

Que laisseras-tu à ta sœur, Honoré, mon enfant ? (x2)
Mon violon, mon archet, Maman faisez mon lit
Car j'ai grand mal au cœur, je veux aller me coucher.

Que laisseras-tu à ta belle, Honoré, mon enfant ? (x2)
Je lui laisserai la mer pour aller s'y noyer !
Elle l'a bien mérité : c'est elle qui m'a empoisonné !
HONORÉ MY CHILD

Where did you go yesterday evening, Honoré, my child? (x2)
I went to see the girls*, Mother, make my bed
For my heart is very sick, I want to go and lie down.

Where on earth are your two dogs, Honoré, my child? (x2)
They died after supper, Mother, make my bed
For my heart is very sick, I want to go and lie down.

What on earth did you eat, Honoré, my child? (x2)
A small, salted fish, Mother, make my bed
For my heart is very sick, I want to go and lie down.

What will you leave to your father, Honoré, my child? (x2)
My land and my house, Mother, make my bed
For my heart is very sick, I want to go and lie down.

What will you leave to your mother, Honoré, my child? (x2)
My clothes, my outfit, Mother, make my bed
For my heart is very sick, I want to go and lie down.

What will you leave to your brother, Honoré, my child? (x2)
My saddle and my horse, my watch and my shoes.
For my heart is very sick, I want to go and lie down.

What will you leave to your sister, Honoré, my child? (x2)
My violin, my (violin) bow, Mother, make my bed
For my heart is very sick, I want to go and lie down.

What will you leave to your sweetheart, Honoré, my child? (x2)
I'll leave her the sea for her to drown in it!
She's well deserved it, she's the one who poisoned me!
* "aller voir les filles" literally "to go to see the girls" usually means "to go pay a visit to the prostitutes"

Recording by Robert le Diable, a band from Normandy.
A cappella recording by Gabriel Yacoub at 19:20

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 13 Feb 23 - 02:13 PM

LA MORA CAUTIVA / EL DÍA DE LOS TORNEOS/ (Spanish)
LA CRISTIANA CAUTIVA / LA HERMANA CAUTIVA

El día de los torneos,
pasé yo por Morería,
y vi a una mora lavando
al pie de la fuente fría.

"Apártate, mora bella;
apártate, mora linda;
deja beber mi caballo
de esta fuente cristalina."

"No soy mora, caballero,
que soy cristiana cautiva;
me cautivaron los moros
día de Pascua Florida.
Siendo yo pequeña niña
y con apenas cinco años
De los brazos de mi padre
Los moros me arrebataron.

Me llevaron al desierto
Y allí me querían casar
Con un morito muy guapo
Y de mucho capital."

"Si te vinieras conmigo
aquí en mi caballo irías."
"Y los pañuelos que lavo,
¿dónde me los dejaría?"
"Los de seda y los de Holanda,
sobre mi caballería;
y los que nada valieren
río se los llevaría."

-Y mi honra, caballero
¿dónde me la dejaría?
- Juro a los pies de mi espada,
que en el suelo está tendida,
de no hablarte ni mirarte
hasta los montes de Olías.".
Al llegar a aquellos montes
La mora llora y suspira.

"¿Por qué lloras, mora bella?
¿Por qué suspiras, mi vida?"
"Lloro porque en estos montes
mi padre acá me traía
Cuando salía de caza
Con toda su cortesía
Y mi hermano Moralejo
Que me hacía compañía.

"¿Cómo se llama tu padre?"
"Mi padre, Don Juan, él de Olías."
"¡Dios mío! ¿Qué es lo que dices?
¡Virgen sagrada María!

Abra usted, madre, la puerta,
ventanas y celosías
que aquí os traigo la niña
que buscabais noche y día.
Que el día de los torneos
pasé yo por Morería
Yo pensé traer mujer
y traigo una hermana mía."
THE CAPTIVE MOORISH GIRL / ON THE DAY OF THE TOURNAMENTS/
THE CAPTIVE CHRISTIAN GIRL / THE CAPTIVE SISTER

On the day of the tournaments
I passed through the Moorish country,
And I saw a Moorish girl washing
At the foot of the cold spring.

"Move away, beautiful Moorish girl;
Move away, pretty Moorish girl;
Let my horse drink
From this crystalline spring."

"I am not a Moor, gentleman,
I am a captive Christian;
I was captured by the Moors
On Easter Day.
When I was a little girl
And only five years old
The Moors snatched me
From my father's arms.

They took me to the desert
And there they wanted to marry me off
To a very handsome Moorish young man
And with a lot of resources/assets."

"If you came with me
Here on my horse, you would go."
"And the linens* that I wash,
Where would I leave them?"
"Those of silk and those of Holland,
On my cavalry;
And those that'd be worthless
The river would take them away."

-And my honor, gentleman.
Where would I/you(?) leave/keep it?
- I swear at the foot of my sword
That is lying on the ground,
Not to talk to you or look at you
Till the mounts/hills of Olías."
Upon reaching those mounts/hills
The Moorish girl cries and sighs.

"Why are you crying, beautiful Moorish girl?
Why are you sighing, my love?"
"I cry because in those mounts/hills
My father would bring me
When he went hunting
With all his entourage/retinue
And my brother Moralejo
Would keep me company.

"What is the name of your father?"
"My father, Don Juan, the one from Olías."
"My God! What are you saying?
Holy Virgin Mary!

Open the door, mother,
Windows and (window) lattices
Here I bring you the girl
You were looking for day and night.
On the day of the tournaments
I passed through the Moorish country
I thought I was bringing a wife
And I'm bringing a sister of mine."
*Pañuelos literally means "handkerchiefs" but more likely means "linens" here.

The Pan-Hispanic Ballad Project has collected 199 versions of this "romance" in different countries and communities. Many versions are said to be recited but there are a few scores posted on this page.
If you put any of the different Spanish titles in a search engine you'll come across a lot of sets of lyrics and videos.

After all, the video I took it from hasn't disappeared. So here is the version I sang sung by El Último Trovador
A very similar version though not exactly the same.

As sung by Alalumbre Folk
As sung by Nuevo Mester de Juglaría
A sung by Joaquín Díaz

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 20 Feb 23 - 02:08 PM

DONNA LOMBARDA (Italian)

Donna lombarda, donna lombarda, donna lombarda
Tu vuoi venire al ballo con me, al ballo con me?

Io veneria ben volentieri, io veneria
Ma ho paura del mio marì, del mio marì.

Tuo marito l'è un uomo vecchio, un uomo vecchio,
T'ho da insegnare a farlo morir, a farlo morir

E vai nell'orto di tuo padre, e vai nell'orto
Là c'è la testa del serpentin, del serpentin

Lo prenderai, lo pesterai, lo prenderai
E nel buon vino lo metterai, lo metterai

E riva a casa suo marito, e riva a casa
Tutto sudato dal lavorar, del lavorar

Donna lombarda, donna lombarda, donna lombarda,
Vammi a cercare tu del buon vin, tu del buon vin

Tu lo vuoi bianco, tu lo vuoi rosso, tu lo vuoi rosso
Donna lombarda, come vuoi tu, come vuoi tu

E un bambino di nove mesi, e un bambino
Sta nella culla così parlò, così parlò

Oh mio padre, oh mio buon padre, oh mio buon padre
Se lo berrai tu morirai, tu morirai

E lui si mise la spada al fianco, la spada al fianco
Donna lombarda beva ste vin, beva ste vin

E ogni goccia che lei beveva, che lei beveva
Lei la diceva addio marì, addio marì,

Addio marito, addio per sempre, addio per sempre
Ci rivedremo là su nel ciel, là su nel ciel.
DAME LOMBARD

Dame Lombard, Dame Lombard, Dame Lombard
Will you come to the dance with me, to the dance with me?

I would willingly come, I would come
But I'm afraid of my husband, of my husband.

Your husband is an old man, an old man,
I have to teach you how to make him die, to make him die

Go to your father's garden, go to the garden
There is the head of the snake, of the snake

You'll get it, you'll crush it, you'll get it
And in good wine you will put it, you will put it

And her husband comes home, he comes home
All sweaty from working, from working

Dame Lombard, Dame Lombard, Dame Lombard,
Go and find me some good wine, some good wine

Do you want it white, do you want it red, do you want it red?
Lombard woman, as you wish, as you wish

And a nine-month-old baby, and a baby
Lies in the cradle and he spoke thus, he spoke thus

Oh my father, oh my good father, oh my good father
If you drink it you will die, you will die

And he put his sword to his side, his sword to his side
Dame Lombard, drink this wine, drink this wine

And every drop that she drank, that she drank
She said farewell husband, farewell husband,

Farewell husband, farewell forever, farewell forever
We'll meet again up there in the sky, up there in the sky.
Donna Lombarda -as sung by Giordano Dell’Armellina.
You’ll find 16 versions collected in “Canti popolari del Piemonte” by Costantino Nigra.
There are more in different Italian collections.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 22 Feb 23 - 03:38 PM

On Feb. 13th Lois sang...

PLAISIR D'AMOUR (Adapted)

Plaisir d’amour ne dure qu’un moment
Chagrin d’amour dure toute la vie
        Tu m’as quittée pour la belle Sylvie
        Elle t'a quitté pour un autre amant

Plaisir d’amour ne dure qu’un moment
Chagrin d’amour dure toute la vie

The Pleasures of love last but a moment
The Pains of love can endure your whole life through

You left me for la belle Sylvie
Then she left you for another
Who by chance came along

The Pleasures of love last but a moment.
The Pains of love can last your whole life long
        Plaisir d’amour ne dure qu’un moment,
        Chagrin d’amour dure toute la vie.

Written in 1784, Jean-Paul-Égide Martini. Wikipedia Entry
A version by Joan Baez

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 27 Feb 23 - 01:51 PM

MON AMANT DE SAINT-JEAN (1942 - French)
Léon Agel (1910-1999) / Émile Carrara (1915-1973)

Je ne sais pourquoi j'allais danser
À Saint-Jean, au musette
Mais il m'a suffi d'un seul baiser
Pour que mon cœur soit prisonnier

Comment ne pas perdre la tête,
Serrée par des bras audacieux
Car l'on croit toujours aux doux mots d'amour
Quand ils sont dits avec les yeux.
Moi, qui l'aimais tant,
Je le trouvais le plus beau de Saint-Jean,
Je restais grisée sans volonté sous ses baisers.

Sans plus réfléchir, je lui donnais
Le meilleur de mon être,
Beau parleur, chaque fois qu'il mentait,
Je le savais, mais, je l'aimais.

Comment ne pas perdre la tête,
Serrée par des bras audacieux
Car l'on croit toujours aux doux mots d'amour
Quand ils sont dits avec les yeux.
Moi, qui l'aimais tant,
Je le trouvais le plus beau de Saint-Jean,
Je restais grisée sans volonté sous ses baisers.

Mais hélas, à Saint-Jean comme ailleurs,
Un serment n'est qu'un leurre,
J'étais folle de croire au bonheur,
Et de vouloir garder son cœur.

Comment ne pas perdre la tête,
Serrée par des bras audacieux,
Car l'on croit toujours aux doux mots d'amour
Quand ils sont dits avec les yeux.
Moi, qui l'aimais tant,
Mon bel amour, mon amant de Saint-Jean,
Il ne m'aime plus, c'est du passé, n'en parlons plus.
MY LOVER OF SAINT-JEAN


I don't know why I was going to dance
To Saint-Jean to the musette*,
But all it took was one kiss
For my heart to be taken

How not to lose your head
Held tight in bold arms
For we always believe in sweet words of love
When they are said with the eyes.
I, who loved him so much,
I found him the most handsome in Saint-Jean,
I was left intoxicated, without willpower under his kisses.

Without thinking any more, I gave him
The best of myself,
Smooth talker, every time he lied,
I knew it, but I loved him.

How not to lose your head
Held tight in bold arms
For we always believe in sweet words of love
When they are said with the eyes.
I, who loved him so much,
I found it the most handsome in Saint-Jean,
I was left intoxicated, without willpower nder his kisses.

But alas, in Saint-Jean as elsewhere,
A pledge is only a ploy,
I was crazy to believe in happiness,
And to want to keep his heart.

How not to lose your head
Held tight in bold arms
For we always believe in sweet words of love
When they are said with the eyes.
I, who loved him so much,
My beautiful love, my lover of Saint-Jean,
He doesn't love me anymore, that's in the past, let's not talk about it anymore.
* Bal-musette is a style of French instrumental music and dance that first became popular in Paris in the 1880s. Although it began with bagpipes as the main instrument, this instrument was replaced with accordion, on which a variety of waltzes, polkas, and other dance styles were played for dances. (Wiki entry)

A first version of the song with different lyrics were first released in 1937 but the audience didn't like it so it was re-written in 1942 with the lyrics we know now.

Different translations on Lyrics Translate

Wiki entry about the song (in French)

Recording by Lucienne Delyle (1942)
Recording by Ginette Garcin (1962) -with traces of her southern accent!
Recording by Patachou (1966)
Recording of modern remake by Patrick Bruel with subtitles in both English and French. As the song is sung by a man the lyrics are a little different.
Live rendition by Patrick Bruel. Note the waltz was a "valse musette" so the dancers would turn around themselves regularly and FAST.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 06 Mar 23 - 02:19 PM

CECILA (Occitan)
Yves Rouquette (1936-2015) / Trad.

Cecila aviás vint ans en 1907 (x2)
Alavetz se levava nòstre pòble de muts
Per Narbona passavas, t’an tirat dessús

Cecila èra a Narbona en 1907 (x2)
Quand ton pòble s’acampa cossí èsser en lòc pus
De Cuxac arribavas, t’an tirat dessús

Es Carrièra del Pont en 1907 (x2)
Que de morre tombères amb quatre companhons
Caliá de sang al Tigre per matar vinhairons

Un ataüt de pèiras en 1907 (x2)
Los Narbonés faguèron, velhèron a l’entorn
Tres jorns òmes e femnas e los enfants pichons

Demandàvem de pan en 1907 (x2)
Es de plomb que donèron. "Nosaus governem-nos!"
Disián al cementèri los òmes en corroç

E res non a cambiat dempuèi 1907 (x2)
Ni pel sang de Cecila, ni pels crits de Ferroul
Son d’autres que nos govèrnan de son argent totjorn

Ni pel sang de Cecila en 1907
Ni pels crits de Ferroul en 1907
Los parla-plan barjacan e viram en redond
Al Païs d’Occitania, los òmes onte son ?
CECILE


Cecile, you were 20 in 1907 (x2)
It was then that our dumb people arose
You passed by in Narbonne, they shot you

Cecile was in Narbonne in 1907 (x2)
When your people gather, how to be elsewhere?
From Cuxac you arrived, they shot you

It is in the Rue du Pont* in 1907 (x2)
That you fell on your face with four companions
The Tiger** needed blood to subdue the winegrowers

A coffin of stones in 1907 (x2)
The Narbonne people made, they held the wake around you
For three days, men and women and small children

We were asking for bread in 1907
They gave [us] lead. "Let's govern by ourselves! »
Were the angry men saying in the cemetery

And nothing has changed since 1907
Despite Cecile's blood, despite Ferroul's yelling
Others still rule over us by their money

Despite Cecile's blood in 1907
Despite Ferroul's yelling in 1907
The smooth-talkers prattle on and we go around in circles.
In the land of Occitania, where are the men?
* lit. "Bridge Street"
** Nickname of Georges Clémenceau, France prime minister from 1906 to 1909.

This song tells the story of Cécile Bourrel, a 20 year old girl who'd gone to Narbonne market in June 1907 during the winegrowers revolt and was shot by a stray bullet.
Postcard showing the tumulus Narbonne people built where she and a few others fell during the shooting.
Postcard showing her funeral.

To know more about the revolt of the Languedoc winegrowers in 1907, Wiki article

1975 recording by Maria Roanet (in French Marie Rouanet, Yves Rouquette's wife -now widow)

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 06 Mar 23 - 07:21 PM

Fuigfidh Mise an Baile Seo (I will leave this town, Irish Gaelic)
https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=60012


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 15 Mar 23 - 01:00 PM

On Monday, Jim sang "Ruben Ranzo/Ranzo Boys" in Swedish.

RUBEN RANZO / RANZO BOYS (Swedish)
(from Sang Under Segel)

Hans namn var Ruben Ranzo.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
Å Ruben va' ingen sjöman.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

Han tjänt som skräddarlärling.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
Av juling fick han täring.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

Å Ranzo fick the notion
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
en dag to cross the ocean.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

Så från en Bond Street tailor
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
han shipped on board a whaler.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

En shilling blev hans hyra.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
Men åt han gjörde för fyra.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

Han slog för skepparns kärring,
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
en sur och saltad herring.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

Så ramlan ner från riggen,
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
så skorna tappa pliggen.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

På hundvakten om natten
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
han åts av svarta katten.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

Och när i brassar stramar
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
av alla kraftar jamar
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
REUBEN RANZO / RANZO BOYS
(Jim's translation)

His name was Ruben Ranzo.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
And Ranzo was no sailor.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

He served as a tailor's apprentice.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
From beatings he got his learning.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

And Ranzo got the notion
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
one day to cross the ocean.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

So from a Bond Street Tailor
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
He shipped on board a whaler.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

A shilling was his pay,
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
But he ate enough for four.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

He got as the ships ration
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
a sour and salted herring.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

Then [he] tumbled down from the rigging,
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
So [his] shoes hit the deck.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

On the dogwatch in the night,
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
He was eaten by the black cat.
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

And when you sweat (tighten) the braces,
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
with full power, shout
        Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!
Live rendition
Rendition by Jerzy Brzezinski

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 27 Mar 23 - 02:13 PM

LE GARÇON JARDINIER (French)
Traditional

Où allez-vous la belle avant soleil levé ? (x2)
Je m'en vais à la messe
L'avez-vous entendue sonner
Beau garçon jardinier

Attendez-moi la belle je vous y conduirai (x2)
L'a prise par sa main blanche
Au jardin il l'a emmenée
À l'ombre du rosier

Cueillez, cueillez la belle, la fleur que vous voudrez (x2)
La belle a pris la rose
Et puis elle s'est mise à pleurer
À l'ombre du rosier

Qu'avez-vous donc la belle, qu'a-vous à tant pleurer ? (x2)
Je pleure mon cœur volage
Galant, que vous m'avez volé
À l'ombre du rosier

Pleurez donc pas la belle je vous le renderai* (x2)
C'est pas une chose à rendre
Galant comme de l'argent prêté
Beau garçon jardinier
THE GARDENER BOY


"Where are you going, beauty, before sunrise? (x2)
I'm going to mass,
Did you hear the bells ring (lit. "hear it ring")
Handsome gardener boy?"

"Wait for me, beauty, I'll take you there" (x2)
He took her by her white hand
In the garden he took her
In the shade of the rosebush

"Pick, pick, pretty, the flower you want" (x2)
The girl took the rose
And then she started crying
In the shade of the rosebush

"What's the matter with you, beauty, why are you crying so much?" (x2)
"I'm crying for my fickle heart
Gallant, that you stole from me
In the shade of the rosebush"

"Don't cry so much, beauty, I'll give it back to you" (x2)
"It's not a thing to give back
Gallant, like loaned money
Handsome gardener boy"
*The correct form is "rendrai".

Recording by Malicorne
Live rendition by Gabriel Yacoub

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 03 Apr 23 - 02:30 PM

LA DONCELLA GUERRERA (Spanish)

En Sevilla a un sevillano siete hijas le dio Dios (x2)
todas siete fueron hembras
todas siete fueron hembras y ninguno fue varón.

A la más chiquita de ellas le llevó la inclinación (x2)
de ir a servir a la guerra
de ir a servir a la guerra vestidita de varón.

Al montar en el caballo, la espada se le cayó (x2)
por decir ¡maldita sea¡
por decir ¡maldita sea¡, dijo -maldita sea yo.

El rey que lo estaba oyendo, de amores se cautivó: (x2)
-Madre, los ojos de Marcos,
-Madre, los ojos de Marcos, son de hembra, no de varón.

-Convídala tú, hijo mío, a los ríos a nadar (x2)
que si ella fuese hembra,
que si ella fuese hembra, no se querrá desnudar.

Toditos los caballeros se empiezan a desnudar (x2)
y el caballero don Marcos
y el caballero don Marcos se ha retirado a llorar.

-¿Por qué llora usted don Marcos?.- ¿Por qué debo de llorar? (x2)
Por un falso testimonio
Por un falso testimonio que me quieren levantar.

-No llores alma querida, no llores mi corazón, (x2)
que eso que tú tanto sientes,
que eso que tú tanto sientes, eso lo deseo yo.
THE WARRIOR MAIDEN

In Sevilla, God gave seven daughters to a Sevillian (x2)
All seven were female
All seven were female and none was male.

The youngest of them had a calling (x2)
for going to serve in the war
To serve in the war dressed as a man.

When she mounted the horse, her sword fell down (x2)
Instead of saying "Let it be cursed!"
Instead of saying "Let it be cursed!", she said "Let me be cursed!".

The King who was hearing fell in love: (x2)
"Mother, Marcos's eyes,
Mother, Marcos's eyes are a woman's, not a man's."

"Invite her, son, to swim in the river (x2)
As if she'd be female,
As if she'd be female, she won't want to undress."

All the horsemen/knights/gentlemen start to undress (x2)
And the horseman/knight/gentleman don Marcos
And the horseman/knight/gentleman don Marcos withdrew to weep.

"Why are you crying don Marcos?" "Why need I do cry? (x2)
Because of a false testimony
Because of a false testimony they want to take away from me."

"Don't cry, beloved soul, don't cry, my heart, (x2)
For what you're so sorry about,
For what you're so sorry about is what I wish.
"La doncella guerrera" by Joaquín Díaz

There are many versions in Spanish and Portuguese on the Pan Hispanic Ballad Project of the University of Washington

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: GUEST,Grishka
Date: 05 Apr 23 - 06:30 AM

Lovely lyrics altogether, many of them were unknown to me. Thank you and keep up the good work, Monique!

May I mention that "donna lombarda" means "lady from Lombardy" – a region that, from a Piedmontese perspective, has the reputation of being somewhat nouveau-riche, snobbish, and lacking true-blue italianità.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 10 Apr 23 - 02:18 PM

This version of the female warrior ballad has been collected in Jesi area in the Marche region of Italy. The first part that usually tells that the girl goes to war instead of her father/brother is missing.
LA RAGAZZA GUERRIERA (Italian dialect)

Mamma la mia mamma scolà m'hai da 'nsegnà'
un soldatò di guera m'ha fatto innamorà’

Fijo mio bel fijo portètela a ffa' 'l pà'
se ll'è una vera fija si llaverà lle mà'

Soldato mio bel soldato lavatevi lle mà'
Un soldatò di guera non si llavà lle mà'
solo che qualche volta co' 'l sangue dei cristià'

Fijo mio bel fijo cosà ci hai ricavà'
O mamma la mia mamma scola m'hai da 'nsegnà'

Fijo mio bel fijo portètela al giardì'
se ll'è una vera fija lo cojerà un fiorì'

Soldato mio bel soldato, coglietelo un fiorì
Un soldatò di guera non po' portare 'l fiorì
solo che qualche volta un bon bicchiere de vì'

Mamma la mia mamma scolà m'hai da 'nsegnà'
all'ombra di una fija m'ha fatto innamorà'

Fijo mio bel fijo portètela al gioiè'
se ll'è una vera fija lo scejerà un anè'

Soldato mio bel soldato scejetevi un anè'
Un soldato di guera non po' portare 'n'anè'
solo che qualche volta la spada e 'n bon bicchiè'

Fijo mio bel fijo cosa ci hai ricavà'
O mamma la mia mamma scola m'hai da 'nsegnà'

Fiji mio bel fijo portètela a ddormì'
se ll'è una vera fija non ce vorrà vvenì'

Soldato mio bel soldato andamocene a ddormì'
Ma mi è 'rrivata 'na lettera che me conviene a ppartì'
THE WARRIOR MAIDEN

"Mom, my mom, tell me how to do it
A soldier in the war made me fall in love"

"Son, my handsome son, take her to make bread
If she's a real girl she will wash her hands"

"Soldier my handsome soldier, wash your hands"
"A soldier in war does not wash his hands
Only sometimes with the blood of Christians"

"Son, my handsome son, what did you get?"
"O Mom, my mom, explain to me how to do it"

"Son, my handsome son, take her to the garden
If she's a real girl she will pick flowers"

"Soldier, my handsome soldier, pick a flower"
"A soldier in war cannot carry a flower
Just sometimes a good glass of wine"

"Mom, my mom, tell me how to do it"
The shadow of a girl made me fall in love"

"Son, my handsome son, take her to the jeweler
If she's a real girl she will choose a ring"

"Soldier, my handsome soldier, choose a ring"
"A soldier in war cannot wear rings
Only sometimes the sword and a good glass"

"Son, my handsome son, what did you get?"
"Mom, my mom, tell me how to do it"

"Son, my handsome son, take her to sleep
If she's a real girl she won't want to come"

"Soldier, my handsome soldier, let's go to sleep"
"Well, I got a letter telling me to leave"
Recording by La Macina

Recording by Gastone Pietrucci & La Macina

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 12 Apr 23 - 05:47 PM

On Monday, Joan sang "Adir Hu" and "Mah Nishtanah" (below). Philippa sang Zog, Maran

MAH NISHTANAH
(Transliteration)

Mah nishtanah, ha-laylah ha-zeh,
mi-kol ha-leylot

She-b'khol ha-leylot 'anu 'okhlin
chameytz u-matzah,
ha-laylah ha-zeh, kulo matzah

She-b'khol ha-leylot 'anu 'okhlin
sh'ar y'rakot,
ha-laylah ha-zeh, maror

She-b'khol ha-leylot 'eyn 'anu
matbilin 'afilu pa`am 'achat,
ha-laylah ha-zeh, shtey p`amim

She-b'khol ha-leylot 'anu 'okhlin
ushotin beyn yoshvin u-veyn m'subin,
ha-laylah ha-zeh, kulanu m'subin

Translation

Why is this night different
from all the other nights?;

That on all other nights we eat both
chametz and matzah,
on this night, we eat only matzah?

That on all other nights we eat
many vegetables,
on this night, maror?

That on all other nights we do not
dip vegetables even once,
on this night, we dip twice?

That on all other nights
some eat and drink sitting with others reclining,
but on this night, we are all reclining?
HEBREW


מַה נִּשְׁתַּנָּה

מַה נִּשְׁתַּנָּה, הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה
מִכָּל הַלֵּילוֹת

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָנוּ אוֹכְלִין
חָמֵץ וּמַצָּה
הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה, כֻּלּוֹ מַצָּה

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָנוּ אוֹכְלִין
שְׁאָר יְרָקוֹת
הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה, מָרוֹר

שבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אֵין אָנוּ
מַטְבִּילִין אֲפִילוּ פַּעַם אֶחָת
הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה, שְׁתֵּי פְעָמִים

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָנוּ אוֹכְלִין ושותין
בֵּין יוֹשְׁבִין וּבֵין מְסֻבִּין
הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה, כֻּלָּנוּ מְסֻבִּין



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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 17 Apr 23 - 02:25 PM

DONZELA QUE VAI À GUERRA (Portuguese)

As guerras se apregoaram
À porta de Dom Varão
"Ai de mim que já estou velho
-Ai tão linda-
Não as posso vencer, não"

“De sete filhas que tenho
-Ai tão linda-
Não ser um filho varão*"
Respondeu logo a mais nova
Com toda a discrição:
"Venham lá armas e cavalos
-Ai tão linda-
Quero ser seu filho varão"

"Filha tens os olhos muito lindos
Por eles te conhecerão"
"Quando olharem para mim
-Ai tão linda-
Eu olharei para o chão
Venham lá armas e cavalos
-Ai tão linda-
Quero ser seu filho varão”

"Filha tens os peitos muito altos
Por eles te conhecerão"
"Venham fardas bem apertadas
-Ai tão linda-
Que eles logo abaixarão
Venham lá armas e cavalos
-Ai tão linda-
Quero ser seu filho varão"

"Oh meu pai, Oh minha madre
Que me finou de paixão
Que os olhos de Dom Varão
-Ai tão linda-
São de mulher, de homem não!"

"Sete anos eu fui à guerra
Sete anos eu fui varão"
"Nunca me pôde enganar
-Ai tão linda-
O filho de Dom João"
MAIDEN WHO GOES TO WAR

The wars broke out
At the door of Dom Varão
"Woe is me, I am old
-Oh so beautiful-
I can't defeat them, no"

"Of the seven daughters I have
Oh so beautiful
None is an eldest son"
The youngest replied soon
Full of modesty:
"Come guns and horses
-Oh so beautiful-
I want to be your eldest son"

"Daughter you have very beautiful eyes
By them they will know you"
"When they look at me
-Oh so beautiful-
I will look down to the floor,
Come on guns and horses
-Oh so beautiful-
I want to be your eldest son"

"Daughter, you have very high breasts
By them they will know you"
"Come in very tight uniforms
-Oh so beautiful-
That they will soon go down
Come on guns and horses
-Oh so beautiful-
I want to be your eldest son"

"Oh my father, oh my mother
I'm dying of passion
For the eyes of Dom Varão
-Oh so beautiful-
Are a woman's, not a man's!"

"Seven years I went to war
Seven years I was an eldest son."
"He could never deceive/trick me,
-Oh so beautiful-
Dom João's son."
Recording by José Barros

Here is a long version re-written by Almeida Garrett (1799-1854) from older documents:
A DONZELA QUE VAI À GUERRA
(Almeida Garrett)

Já se apregoam as guerras
Entre a França e o Aragão:
— Ai de mim que já sou velho,
Não nas posso brigar, não!
De sete filhas que tenho,
Sem nenhuma ser varão,
Responde a filha mais velha
Com toda a resolução:
— Venham armas e cavalo
Que eu serei filho varão.

—Tendes los olhos mui vivos.
Filha, conhecer-vos-ão.
— Quando passar pela armada
Porei os olhos no chão.

—Tendes los ombros mui altos
Filha, conhecer-vos-ão.
— Venha gibão apertado,
Os peitos encolherão.

—Tend’-las mãos pequeninas
Filha, conhecer-vos-ão.
— Venham já guantes de ferro
E compridas ficarão.

— Tend’ los pés delicados,
Filha, conhecer-vos-ão.
— Calçarei botas e esporas,
Nunca delas sairão.

— Senhor pai, senhora mãe,
Grande dor de coração,
Que os olhos do conde Daros
São de mulher, de homem não.

— Convidai-o vós meu filho
Para ir convosco ao pomar,
Que, se ele mulher for,
À maçã se há-de pegar.

A donzela, por discreta,
O camoês foi apanhar.
— Oh que belos camoezes
Para um homem cheirar!
Lindas maçãs para damas
Quem lhas pudera levar.

— Senhor pai, senhora mãe,
Grande dor de coração,
Que os olhos do conde Daros
São de mulher, de homem não.

Convidai-o vós, meu filho,
Para convosco jantar,
Que, se ele mulher for,
No estrado se há-de encruzar.
A donzela por discreta,
Nos altos se foi sentar.

— Senhor pai, senhora mãe,
Grande dor de coração,
Que os olhos do conde Daros
São de mulher, de homem não.

— Convidai-o vós, meu filho,
Para convosco feirar,
Que, se ele mulher for,
Às fitas se há-de pegar.

A donzela, por discreta,
Uma adaga foi comprar.
— Oh que bela adaga esta
Para com homens brigar!
Lindas fitas para damas:
Quem lhas pudera levar!

— Senhor pai, senhora mãe,
Grande dor de coração,
Que os olhos do conde Daros
São de mulher, de homem não.

— Convidai-o vós, meu filho,
Para convosco nadar,
Que, se ele mulher for,
O convite há-de escusar.
A donzela, por discreta
Começou-se a desnudar…

Traz-lhe o seu pajem[4] uma carta,
Pôs-se a ler e pôs-se a chorar.
— Novas me chegam agora,
Novas de grande pesar:
De que minha mãe é morta,
Meu pai se está a finar.

Os sinos da minha terra
Os estou a ouvir dobrar
E duas irmãs que eu tenho
Daqui as oiço chorar.

Monta, monta, cavaleiro,
Se me quer acompanhar.
Chegavam a uns altos paços,
Foram-se logo apear.

— Senhor pai, trago-lhe um genro,
Se o quiser aceitar;
Foi meu capitão na guerra,
De amores me quis contar…
Se ainda me quer agora
Com meu pai há-de falar.

Sete anos andei na guerra
E fiz de filho varão.
Ninguém me conheceu nunca
Senão o meu capitão;
Conheceu-me pelos olhos,
Que por outra coisa não.
THE MAIDEN WHO GOES TO WAR


The wars are already proclaimed
Between France and Aragon:
"Woe is me, I'm already old,
I can’t fight, no!
Of the seven daughters I have,
Without any being the eldest son."
The eldest daughter answers
With full resolution:
"Let weapons and a horse come
For I will be a male child (the eldest son)."

"You have very lively eyes.
Daughter, they will know you."
"When passing through the armada
I’ll lower my eyes."

"You have very high shoulders
Daughter, they will know you."
"Let a tight doublet come,
The breasts will shrink."

"You have little hands
Daughter, they will know you."
"Let iron gauntlets come now
And they will look long."

"You have delicate feet,
Daughter, they will know you."
"I’ll wear boots and spurs,
They will never come out."

"Father, Mother,
Great heartache [I have],
For the eyes of Count Daros
Are a woman’s, not a man’s."

"Invite him, my son,
To go with you to the orchard,
For if he is a woman,
He must take the apple."

The maiden, being discreet,
Went to pick the rough-skinned apple.
"Oh! what beautiful rough-skinned apples
For a man to smell!
Beautiful apples for ladies
Who could pick them."

"Father, Mother,
Great heartache [I have],
For the eyes of Count Daros
Are a woman’s, not a man’s."

"Invite him, my son,
To dine with you,
That if he is a woman,
He’ll sit down on the platform."
The maiden, being discreet,
Went to sit on the highs.

"Father, Mother,
Great heartache [I have],
For the eyes of Count Daros
Are a woman’s, not a man’s."

"Invite him, my son,
To the fair with you,
For if he is a woman,
He’ll pick up ribbons."
The maiden, being discreet,
A dagger went to buy.

"Oh, what a fine dagger this is
To fight with men!
Beautiful ribbons for ladies:
Who could take them!"

"Father, Mother,
Great heartache [I have],
For the eyes of Count Daros
Are a woman’s, not a man’s."

"Invite him, my son,
To swim with you,
For if he is a woman,
He’ll decline the invitation."
The maiden, being discreet
Started to undress…

Her page brings her a letter,
She began to read and began to cry.
"News reaches me now,
News of great regret:
My mother is dead,
My father is dying.

The bells of my land
I’m hearing them toll.
And two sisters I have
I hear them cry from here.

Mount, mount, rider,
If you want to follow me."
They reached some high places,
They soon dismounted.

"Father, I bring you a son-in-law,
If you want to accept him;
He was my captain in the war,
He wanted to tell me about love…
If he still wants me now
With my father he will speak."

Seven years I went to war
And I played the male child.
Nobody ever knew me
But my captain;
He knew me by/from/because of my eyes,
But for something else, he didn’t."
Some background and analysis in Portuguese here

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 17 Apr 23 - 07:08 PM

Tonight I sang a song in Irish "Tá Mé i Mo Shuí" (I am in my sitting, i.e. I am sitting up awake)
https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=29051
currently the thread title is "Lyr/Chords Req: gaelic songs"

On 20 March, I sang "Ainnir Dheas na gCiabhfholt Donn" (beautiful girl of the brown tresses) https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=172307
thread title: Lyr Add: Ainnir Dheas na gCiabhfholt Donn (Irish)


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 18 Apr 23 - 12:43 PM

Yesterday Casey sang Gesher Tzar Me’od (A Very Narrow Bridge) in Hebrew.

Lyrics 18th c. And this tune 20th c.
"I first encountered this song with Holly Huffnung at Portland Singtime 2019. Australian Gerry Myerson, a regular on Mudcat, provided the following info by email:
The dates for Rebbe Nachman of Breslov are 1772 to 1810. The Hebrew is his. The tune is by Rabbi Baruch Chait. On, his English Wikipedia page, he was born 23 February 1946." -Casey

GESHER TZAR ME’OD (Hebrew -transliterated)

Kol ha-o-lam ku-lo, gesher tzar me’od,
gesher tzar me’od, gesher tzar me’od.
Kol ha-o-lam ku-lo, gesher tzar me’od,
gesher tzar me’od.

V’ha-i-kar, v’ha-i-kar, lo l’fached, lo l'fached klal
V’ha-i-kar V’ha-i-kar, lo l'fached klal
V’ha-i-kar V’ha-i-kar, lo l’fached, lo l'fached klal
V’ha-i-kar V’ha-i-kar, lo l’fached klal

Kol ha-o-lam ku-lo, gesher tzar me’od,
gesher tzar me’od, gesher tzar me’od.
Kol ha-o-lam ku-lo, gesher tzar me’od,
gesher tzar me’od.
A VERY NARROW BRIDGE

The whole entire world is a very narrow bridge,
A very narrow bridge, a very narrow bridge.
All of the world is a very narrow bridge,
A very narrow bridge.

And above all above all, is not to fear, not to fear at all;
And above all above all, is not to fear at all.
And above all above all, is not to fear, not to fear at all;
And above all above all, is not to fear at all.

The whole entire world is a very narrow bridge,
A very narrow bridge, a very narrow bridge.
All of the world is a very narrow bridge,
A very narrow bridge.
Kol ha-o-lam ku-lo gesher tzar me’od
all/whole world       bridge   narrow
V'ha-i-kar lo l'fached klal
   not to fear   at all

The whole world is a very narrow bridge;
the important thing is not to be afraid.
        -Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav (Ukraine)

Hebrew lyrics:

כל העולם כלו

כל העולם כלו גשר צר מאד
והעקר לא לפחד כלל




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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 24 Apr 23 - 02:21 PM

LA FILLE SOLDAT (French)

La jeune demoiselle a perdu son amant
N'est-ce pas bien dommage dès l'âge de quinze ans ?
Elle s'en va l'attendre à l'ombre de ces bois
Mais elle a beau attendre son amant ne vient pas

Rossignolet sauvage rossignolet charmant
Apprends-moi des nouvelles de mon très cher amant
Oh ton amant la belle il est bien loin d'ici
À vingt-cinq jours de marche y a bien de quoi marcher

Habille-toi la belle habille-toi en guerrier
Tu marcheras sans doute trente-six jours entiers
Quand la belle fut en Prusse aperçoit son amant
Qui faisait l'exercice au beau milieu du rang

Si j'avais su, la belle, que tu m'aurais connu,
J'aurais passé en Flandre, jamais tu n' m'aurais vu.
Que je suis malheureuse d'avoir fait tant de pas
Pour un amant volage qui n' me regarde pas !

Ah dis-moi donc la belle qui t'a envoyée ici ?
Apprends-moi des nouvelles des garçons du pays
Les garçons du village ils sont tous mariés
Il y a que toi volage qui m'ait abandonnée.

Te chagrine pas la belle nous nous marierons
Dans un pays de France ou dans le Piémont,
Te chagrine pas la belle nous nous marierons
Dans un pays de France ou dans le Piémont.
THE MAIDEN SOLDIER

The young lady has lost her sweetheart
Isn't that a pity at the age of fifteen?
She goes to wait for him in the shade of these woods
But no matter how much she waits, her sweetheart doesn't come

"Wild nightingale, charming nightingale
Tell me news about my dearest sweetheart "
"Oh your sweetheart, beauty, he is far away from here
At a twenty-five day walk, it's a long walk

Dress up, beauty, dress up as a warrior
You will probably walk thirty-six whole days"
When the beauty was in Prussia, she sees her sweetheart
Who was doing the exercise in the middle of the row.

"If I had known, beauty, that you would have known me,
I would have gone to Flanders, you'd never have seen me."
"How unhappy I am to have walked so many steps
For a flighty sweetheart who doesn't care for me!"

"Ah, tell me, beauty, who sent you here?
Bring me news from the boys from home."
The boys from home are all married
There's only you, fickle one, who abandoned me."

"Don't worry, beauty, we'll get married
In a region of France or in Piedmont
Don't worry, beauty, we'll get married
In a region of France or in Piedmont."
These lyrics originated in Savoy (Cf. Chansons populaires, recueillies dans les Alpes françaises (Savoie et Dauphiné) by Julien Tiersot, 1903 (1st version).
Malicorne retained the lyrics but the 4th verse and not the tune. They used the tune to Réveillez-vous, Picards, "an old Picard warrior song, currently the regional anthem of Picardy, and marching song of the 1st Infantry Regiment. It comes from the tune sung by Picard soldiers and mercenaries under the Burgundian States before 1479 and their attachment to the crown of France. The lyrics express their loyalty to Charles the Bold. According to Gaston Paris, this song was probably authored by a Picard in the service of Maximilian I." (French Wikipedia)

Recording by Malicorne

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 08 May 23 - 02:32 PM

VAQUÍ LO POLIT MES DE MAI (Occitan -Provençal)

Vaquí lo polit mes de mai
Que tot galant planta son mai
Ne'n plantarai un a ma mía      
Serà mai aut que sa teulissa

Cu li metrem per lo gardar
Un sordat de cada costat
Cu li metrem per sentinèla
Serà lo galant de la bèla

Quand ven l’ora de mejanueit
que lo galant s’endurmiguèt
S’endormiguèt, se somelhava
E lo gran mai se desplantava.

Aquò me facharià per tu
Si ta mía l'aviá vòugut
Ta mía n'aima quauqueis autres
Se trufarà ben de nosautres

Ièu sabi ben çò que farai
Me'n anarai, m'embarcarai
M'embarcarai drech a Marsilha
Pensarai plus d'aquesta filha

Quand de Marsilha revendrai
Davant sa pòrta passarai
Demandarai a sa vesina
Coma se pòrta Catarina

Catarina se pòrta ben
S'es maridada i a ben lòngtemps
Amb' un monsur de la campanha
Que li fai ben faire la dama

N'en pòrta lo capèu bordat
Ambé l'espasa a son costat
La noirirà mai sens ren faire
Que non pas tu, marrit cantaire
HERE COMES THE BEAUTIFUL MONTH OF MAY

Here comes the beautiful month of May
When every gallant/suitor plants his May tree)
I'll plant one to my sweetheart
It will be higher than her roof.

Who will we put to keep it?
One soldier on each side
Who will we put as a sentry?
It will be the girl's gallant.

When midnight came
The gallant/suitor fell asleep,
He fell asleep, he was dozing,
And the great May was been pulled out.

It would make me sorry for you
If your sweetheart had accepted it.
Your sweetheart loves a few more ones.
She will laugh at us!

I know well what I will do
I will leave, I will embark
I will embark straight for Marseilles
I won't think about that girl anymore

When from Marseilles I return
I will pass in front of her door
I will ask her neighbor,
"How is Catherine doing?"

"Catherine is doing well
She got married a long time ago
With a well-respected man from the countryside
Who turns her into a lady

He wears the edged hat*
And a sword on his side
He'll feed her more without doing anything
Than you, bad singer."
* the edged hat meant he was a policeman (gendarme)

Provençal song from the 19th century inspired by the tradition of the suitors’ planting a May pole during the night in front of the girl they wished to woo. Sometimes, a rival could remove the pole while the first one was asleep -and even carry it in front of someone else’s door just for the fun of it! If the girl accepted the May pole the boy knew his feelings were shared and he could court her.

You'll note that in all the recordings below the 3rd verse is missing without which the 4th one can't be understood.
Recording by Gacha Empega.
Recording by Joan Maria Carlotti.
Live rendition by Fai Deli.
Recording by Brotto-Lopez


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 08 May 23 - 08:42 PM

An Mhaighdean Mhara (Irish language, the sea maiden)


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 15 May 23 - 03:35 PM

L'aucèu en gabiòla (Occitan)

Aicí ne'n ven tres aucelets (x2)
Sus un brancon d'oliva, vòla. (x2)

N'i a dos que cantan lo plaser (x2)
E l'autre lei saluda, vòla. (x2)

Aqueu que lei saluda tots (x2)
Lo fau portar a ma mia, vòla. (x2)

Ah! Tenètz, mia, un aucelet (x2)
Metètz-lo en gabiòla, vòla (x2)

Fasètz-l'i lo restar sèt ans (x2)
Sensa manjar ni beure, vòla (x2).

Quand lei sèt ans ne'n son passats (x2)
Lo rossinhòu s'envòla, vòla. (x2)

La dama li corre a l'après (x2)
Coma una frema fòla, vòla. (x2)

Arrèsta, arrèsta, rossinhòu, (x2)
Retòrna en gabiòla, vòla (x2)

Te farai manjar de pan blanc (x2)
Te darai de mon beure, vòla. (x2)

N'en vòle ges de ton pan blanc (x2)
E ni mai de ton beure, vòla. (x2)

Ieu manjarai d'erba de camp (x2)
De la pas caucigada, vòla (x2)

Ieu beurai d'aiga dau rocàs (x2)
De la pas trebolada, vòla (x2)

Ieu cantarai a mon plaser (x2)
Coma mei camaradas, vòla (x2)

Ame mai estre aucèu de camp, (x2)
Qu'un aucèu de gabiòla, vòla. (x2)
The bird in a cage

Here come three little birds (x2)
On a little branch of an olive tree, fly (x2)

There are two singing the pleasure (x2)
And the other one greets them, fly (x2)

The one that greets them all, (x2)
I have it brought to my sweetheart, fly (x2)

Ah, here you go, sweetheart, a little bird, (x2)
Put it in a cage, fly (x2)

Have it stay there for seven years, (x2)
Without food nor drink, fly (x2)

When the seven years are over, (x2)
The nightingale flies away, fly (x2)

The lady runs after it, (x2)
Like a crazy woman, fly (x2)

Stop, stop, nightingale, (x2)
Go back into the cage, fly (x2)

I'll give you white bread to eat (x2),
I'll give you some of my drink, fly (x2)

I don't want any of your white bread (x2)
Nor of your drink, fly (x2)

I'll eat field grass (x2)
The one that is not trodden, fly (x2)

I'll drink rock water (x2)
The one that is not clouded, fly (x2)

I'll sing at my leasure (x2)
Like my fellows, fly (x2)

I like better be a field bird (x2)
Than a bird in a cage, fly (x2)


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 17 May 23 - 09:03 PM

Thíos i dTeach an Torraimh (Irish Gaelic), Down at the Wake-House (a love song, the wakehouse is simply were the couple met)
https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=172393


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 20 May 23 - 03:12 AM

On Monday, Steve sang
C'EST LE MAI, JOLI MAI (French)

C'est le mai, joli mai
C'est le joli mois de mai
C'est le mai, joli mai
C'est le joli mois de mai

Salut, gens de cette assemblée
Nous sommes venus vous visiter
Longtemps nous a fallu marcher
Et nous sommes bien fatigués
Pour chanter...

C'est le mai, joli mai
C'est le joli mois de mai
C'est le mai, joli mai
C'est le joli mois de mai

Merci, gens de cette assemblée
D'être venus nous écouter
Et d'avoir bien voulu veiller
Jusqu'à la fin de la soirée
Pour chanter...

C'est le mai, joli mai
C'est le joli mois de mai
C'est le mai, joli mai
C'est le joli mois de mai

Salut, gens de cette assemblée
Voici l'heure de nous séparer
Mais en rentrant dans vos maisons
Vous emportez cette chanson
Pour chanter...

C'est le mai, joli mai
C'est le joli mois de mai
C'est le mai, joli mai
C'est le joli mois de mai

Mais qu'avez-vous à tant pleurer
À gémir et à soupirer
Sans mentir nous vous promettons
De revenir à la saison
Pour chanter...

C'est le mai, joli mai
C'est le joli mois de mai
C'est le mai, joli mai
C'est le joli mois de mai
IT'S MAY, PRETTY MAY

It's May, pretty May
It's the pretty month of May
It's May, pretty May
It's the pretty month of May

Hi, people of this gathering
We've come to visit you
A long time we had to walk
And we are very tired
To sing...

It's May, pretty May
It's the pretty month of May
It's May, pretty May
It's the pretty month of May

Thank you, people of this gathering
For coming to listen to us
And to have kindly stayed awake
Until the end of the evening
To sing...

It's May, pretty May
It's the pretty month of May
It's May, pretty May
It's the pretty month of May

Hi, people of this gathering
It's time to part ways
But when going back to your homes
You take away this song
To sing...

It's May, pretty May
It's the pretty month of May
It's May, pretty May
It's the pretty month of May

But what's the matter for your crying so much,
Moaning and sighing
Without lying we promise you
To come back on the [same] season
To sing...

It's May, pretty May
It's the pretty month of May
It's May, pretty May
It's the pretty month of May
Live recording by Malicorne
Live rendition by Malicorne on 2012-07-24 in Quimper (around 6:30)

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 22 May 23 - 02:27 PM

C’ÉTAIT UN PETIT MATELOT (French)

C’était un petit matelot
Sur les flots de la mer indienne
C’était un petit matelot
Oh, oh, petit matelot.

Voguait de Brest jusqu’à Frisco
Sur les flots de la mer indienne
Un jour le temps se fit très gros
Oh, oh, petit matelot.

Serr’ les voiles tout le monde en haut
Sur les flots de la mer indienne
Tomb' de plus de vingt mètr's de haut
Oh, oh, petit matelot.

Et l’on mit la chaloupe à l’eau
Sur les flots de la mer indienne
Pour vite le tirer des flots
Oh, oh, petit matelot

Mais on n' sauva que son chapeau
Sur les flots de la mer indienne
Sa vieille pipe et ses sabots,
Oh, oh, petit matelot.

Peut-être bien qu' le p’tit matelot
Sur les flots de la mer indienne
Est dans le ventr' d’un cachalot
Oh, oh, petit matelot.
THERE WAS A LITTLE SAILOR

There was a little sailor
On the Indian sea waves,
There was a little sailor,
Oh, oh, little sailor.

He sailed from Brest to Frisco
On the Indian sea waves,
One day the weather went very rough
Oh, oh, little sailor.

Furl the sails, everybody high up
On the Indian sea waves,
Falls from more than twenty meters high
Oh, oh, little sailor.

And they launched the lifeboat
On the Indian sea waves,
To quickly pull him out of the sea
Oh, oh, little sailor.

But they only rescued his hat
On the Indian sea waves,
His old pipe and his clogs,
Oh, oh, little sailor.

Maybe the little sailor
On the Indian sea waves,
Is inside a toothed whale belly
Oh, oh, little sailor.
Live rendition by Les Couillons de Tomé

Rendition by Jean-Melchior Delpias


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 22 May 23 - 05:54 PM

Òran Beinn Lì (Scottish Gaelic) by "Màiri Mhòr nan Òran" (Big Mary of the Songs) https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=168388


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 26 May 23 - 01:45 PM

On May 1st, Joe Fineman sang part of "Moscow May"
МОСКВА МАЙСКАЯ

Утро красит нежным светом
Стены древнего Кремля,
Просыпается с рассветом
Вся Советская земля.

Холодок бежит за ворот,
Шум на улицах сильней.
С добрым утром, милый город,
Сердце Родины моей!

Припев:
Кипучая,
Могучая,
Никем непобедимая
Страна моя,
Москва моя, —
Ты самая любимая!

Солнце майское, светлее
С неба синего свети,
Чтоб до выси мавзолея
Нашу радость донести.

Чтобы ярче заблистали
Наши лозунги побед,
Чтобы руку поднял Сталин,
Посылая нам привет.

(Припев).

Разгорелся день веселый,
Морем улицы шумят,
Из открытых окон школы
Слышны крики октябрят.

Май течет рекой нарядной
По широкой мостовой,
Льется песней необъятной
Над красавицей Москвой.

(Припев).

День уходит, и прохлада
Освежает и бодрит.
Отдохнувши от парада,
Город праздничный гудит.

Вот когда встречаться парам!
Говорлива и жива,
По садам и по бульварам
Растекается Москва.

(Припев).

Стала ночь на день похожей,
Море света над толпой.
Эй, товарищ! Эй, прохожий,
С нами вместе песню пой!

Погляди! Поет и пляшет
Вся Советская страна,
Нет тебя милей и краше,
Наша красная весна!

(Припев).

Голубой рассвет глядится
В тишину Москвы-реки,
И поют ночные птицы —
Паровозные гудки.

Бьют часы Кремлевской башни,
Гаснут звезды, тает тень...
До свиданья, день вчерашний,
Здравствуй, новый, светлый день!

(Припев).
MOSCOW MAY

The morning paints the walls
Of the ancient Kremlin with soft light
And the whole Soviet land
Wakes up with the sun

A cool breeze runs through the gate,
The noise increases in the streets
Good morning my dear city
The heart of my homeland.

Refrain:
Boiling,
Powerful,
Never defeated
My homeland,
My Moscow,
You are the most beloved.

May the sun of May
Be more powerful from the blue sky
To bring our happiness
Back to the mausoleum.

So that the banners of our victories
Shine more brightly,
For Stalin to raise his hand
And greet us

(Refrain)

The joyful day dawns,
The streets rustle like the sea
And the cries of "oktiabriats"* can be heard
Through open school windows

May flows like a festive river
On the wide pavement
And it flows like an endless song
Above beautiful Moscow.

(Refrain)

The day is fading
And the coolness is coming.
Having rested from the parade,
The city is humming

And now is the time for couples to meet
Talkative and lively.
Moscow spreads
In the gardens and on the boulevards

(Refrain)

The night has become like the day
The sea of light over the crowd
"Hey comrade, hey passers-by
Sing the song with us."

Look at the whole Soviet country
Singing and dancing.
There is nothing sweeter and more beautiful
Than our beautiful spring

(Refrain)

The blue dawn looks into
The calm of the Moskva river
And the night birds sing:
They are the sirens of the locomotives

The Kremlin tower clock strikes
The stars disappear
The shadows fade away
Goodbye yesterday, hello to a bright new day.

(Refrain)
*The "oktiabriats" are the pupils between 7 and 9 years old, the pioneers between 9 and 14 years old
And then the komsomols between 14 and 17 years old and then it was the party card.

Recording (to get you in the mood). The lyrics and an English translation are below the video.


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