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Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English

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Monique 27 Feb 23 - 01:51 PM
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Monique 31 Jan 23 - 06:22 PM
Joe Offer 30 Jan 23 - 04:13 PM
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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: 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: 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: 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: 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: 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: Joe Offer
Date: 30 Jan 23 - 04:13 PM

January 30 Singaround:

Terry SoRelle - Yo soy un pobre vaquero
https://terrys-songs.net/pobre-vaquero


Gerry Myerson: Zog Nit Keyn Mol
https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=59461&messages=23


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 23 Jan 23 - 08:05 PM

Gwen sang two songs in Irish on 23 Jan. The lyrics and translations of both are already on Mudcat

An Cailín Álainn

Amhrán Mhuighinse (aka Amhrán Mhuinse)


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

LA SERRANA (Spanish)

Por la montañita arriba
camina la serranilla
con la falda arregazada
con la falda arregazada
y la nieve a la rodilla.
La nieve caía a copos
y agua menudita y fría,
con el pie pisa la nieve,
con el zapato la trilla.

Echó la vista hacia atrás,
por ver si alguno venía
la estaba viendo un galán
la estaba viendo un galán
de los que la pretendían.
La niña de que le vio,
dejó de andar y corría;
mucho corría el caballero,
pero más corre la niña.

Dónde la vino a alcanzar,
al pie de la verde oliva,
la oliva como era amarga,
la oliva como era amarga
amargamente decía:
-Dónde va la niña blanca,
dónde va la blanca niña.
-Voy a bodas de mi hermano,
que casarse pretendía.

-Si tú me quieres a mí,
yo iría en tu compañía.
-Yo no te quería a ti,
Yo no te quería a ti,
que mis padres no querían;
no me quites el honor,
aunque me quites la vida.
-Te he de quitar el honor,
no te he de quitar la vida.

Estando en estas palabras,
el puñal se le caía,
la serrana que no es torpe
la serrana que no es torpe,
con su mano le cogía.
Se le clavó por la espalda,
a un costado le salía.
Con las ansias de la muerte,
estas palabras decía:

-No te vayas alabando,
ni en tu tierra ni en la mía
que has dado muerte a un galán,
que has dado muerte a un galán,
con las armas que él traía.
Se le cogió en el caballo,
sube montañas arriba
donde había un ermitaño
ganando su santa vida.

-Por Dios te pido, ermitaño,
por Dios te lo pediría
que me dejes enterrar
que me dejes enterrar
un cuerpo que aquí traía.
-Entiérrale niña blanca,
entiérrale, blanca niña.
Con el su puñal dorado,
la sepultura le hacía.
THE MOUNTAIN GIRL

Up the little mountain
The young mountain girl is walking
With her skirt rolled up
With her skirt rolled up
And the snow up to her knees.
The snow was falling in flakes
And water small and cold, [was falling = the sleet was…]
With her feet she treads the snow,
With her shoes she threshes it.

She looked back,
To see if anyone was coming
A young gentleman was watching her
A young gentleman was watching her
Of those who wooed her.
As soon as the girl saw him,
She stopped walking and ran;
The gentleman was running fast,
But the girl ran faster.

Where did he catch up with her?
At the foot of the green olive tree,
As the olive was bitter,
As the olive was bitter
He bitterly said:
-Where does the white girl* go,
Where does the white girl go.
-I'm going to my brother's wedding,
Who meant to get married.

"If you love me,
I would go in your company."
"I didn't love you
I didn't love you
As my parents did not want [me to];
Don't take away my honor,
Even if you take my life."
"I have to take away your honor
I don't have to take your life."

While he was speaking these words,
The dagger fell from him,
The mountain girl who is not clumsy,
The mountain girl who is not clumsy
With her hand caught it.
She stuck it in his back,
It came out of his side.
With the anguish of death,
He said these words:

"Don't go praising yourself,
Neither in your land nor in mine,
That you have killed a gentleman,
That you have killed a gentleman,
With the weapons he brought."
She took him on the horse,
Climbed up mountains
Where was a hermit
Earning his holy life.

"By God I pray to you, hermit,
By God I would ask you
That you let me bury
That you let me bury
A body that I brought here."
"Bury him, white girl,
Bury him, white girl."
With his golden dagger,
She dug his grave.
*"blanca niña" / "niña blanca", lit. "white girl", doesn't refer to the actual color of the girl's skin but to her state of purity/virginity

Recording by Joaquín Díaz

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 16 Jan 23 - 04:41 PM

An Cailín Bán

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 16 Jan 23 - 02:08 PM

MON PÈRE AVAIT UN P'TIT CHAMP D' POIS (French)

Mon père avait un p'tit champ d' pois,
Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu,
Mon père avait un p'tit champ d' pois,
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.

Tous les matins il venait le voir,
Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu,
Tous les matins il venait le voir,
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.

Il rencontrit* une volée d'oies,
Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu,
Il rencontrit une volée d'oies,
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.

Prit son fusil et s'en tua trois,
Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu,
Prit son fusil et s'en tua trois,
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.

Il les mangit* au même repas,Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu,
Il les mangit au même repas,
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.

En fut malade au lit trois mois,
Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu,
En fut malade au lit trois mois,
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.
MY FATHER HAD A SMALL FIELD OF PEAS

My father had a small field of peas,
Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu.
My father had a small field of peas,
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.

Every morning he'd go to see it
Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu.
Every morning he'd go to see it
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.

He came across a flight of geese,
Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu.
He came across a flight of geese,
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.

He took his shotgun and killed three of them
Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu.
He took his shotgun and killed three of them
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.

He ate them at the same meal
Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu.
He ate them at the same meal
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.

He was sick in bed for three months
Pin dibilum cum cum mirabilu.
He was sick in bed for three months
Dibilum populum pinpin in dibilum comcom mirabilu.
* "rencontrit" and "mangit" are just to make it sound better, the correct and usual forms of these verbs in "passé simple" (~preterit) are "rencontra" and "mangea".

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 09 Jan 23 - 09:10 PM

two Scottish Gaelic songs sung at the 9 Jan. 2022 Mudcat singaround

Smeòrach Chlann Dómhnaill

Chì Mi 'n Geamhradh

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 09 Jan 23 - 02:54 PM

PERQUÉ M'AN PAS DIT (1972)
(Claude Marti – 1940 - )

Coma totis los mainatges
Som anat a l’escòla
Coma a totis los mainatges
M’an aprés a legir
M’an cantat plan de cançons
M’aprenguèron tant d’istòrias
Lutèce*... Paris... Paris
    Mas perqué, perqué
   M’an pas dit a l’escòla
   Perqué m’an pas dit
   Mas perqué, perqué
   M’an pas dit a l’escòla
   Lo nom de mon païs ?


Nos contava lo regent
Aquel grand rei de França
Acaptat davant los paures
Un sant òme aquel sant Loïs
Aimava tota la gent
E voliá pas la misèria
Un sant òme aquel sant Loïs
   Mas perqué, perqué
   M’an pas dit a l’escòla
   Perqué m’an pas dit
   Mas perqué, perqué
   M’an pas dit a l’escòla
   Qu’aviá tuat mon païs ?


E quand foguèrem mai grands
Nos calguèt parlar tres lengas
Per far un bon tecnician
Nos caliá cargar tres lengas
E l’anglés e l’alemand
E çò que s’escriu a Roma
Per far un bon tecnician
   Mas perqué, perqué
   M’an pas dit a l’escòla
   Perqué m’an pas dit
   Mas perqué, perqué
   M’an pas dit a l’escòla
   La lenga de mon païs ?


Benlèu tantas coneissenças
Nos mascan la vertat
Aprendrem sols qu’en la terra
Reina pas la libertat
Sauprem la talent de l’India
E lo dòl dels Africans
E la mòrt de Guevara
   Mas perqué, perqué
   An pas dit a l’escòla
   Perqué an pas dit
   Mas perqué, perqué
   An pas dit a l’escòla
   Lo nom de nòstre païs ?
WHY DIDN'T THEY TELL ME


Like all the children
I went to school
Like all the children
I was taught how to read,
They sang me many songs,
They taught me so many stories,
Lutèce… Paris… Paris
   But why, why
   Didn't they tell me at school,
   Why didn't they tell me,
   But why, why
   Didn't they tell me at school
   The name of my country?


The teacher would tell us
About this great king of France,
Lowering himself before the poor,
A holy man, that Saint Louis,
He loved everybody
And didn't want poverty,
A holy man, that Saint Louis,
   But why, why
   Didn't they tell me at school,
   Why didn't they tell me,
   But why, why
   Didn't they tell me at school
   That he'd killed my country?


And when we grew up,
We had to speak three languages
To be a good technician,
We had to learn three languages,
English and German
And what is written in Rome
To be a good technician.
   But why, why
   Didn't they tell me at school,
   Why didn't they tell me,
   But why, why
   Didn't they tell me at school
   The language of my country?


Maybe so much knowledge
Hides the truth from us,
We'll learn by ourselves that on earth,
Liberty doesn't reign
We'll know about India's hunger,
The Africans' pain
And Guevara's death.
   But why, why
   Didn't they tell at school,
   Why didn't they tell,
   But why, why
   Didn't they tell at school
   The name of our country?
*Lutèce was the name of Paris in Romans' times (= till the 5th century), it then took its name from the Parisii Gaulish tribe who inhabited the city)

Recording by Marti

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 26 Dec 22 - 04:21 PM

Martin has sung...

BOAR'S HEAD CAROL (Macaronic song, English and Latin)

The boar's head in hand bear I
Bedecked with bays and rosemary
I pray you, my masters, be merry
Quot estis in convivio (so many as are in the feast)

CHO: Caput apri defero, Reddens laudes domino
(the boar's head I bring, giving praises to God)

The boar's head, as I understand,
Is the rarest dish in all this land,
Which thus bedecked with a gay garland
Let us servire cantico. (let us serve with a song)

CHO:

Our steward hath provided this
In honor of the King of bliss
Which, on this day to be served is
In Reginensi atrio: (in the Queen's hall)

Queens College Version, Oxford, England first published 1521

Recorded by John Langstaff - Christmas Revels. Also by Deller
Consort
Mudcat page

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 26 Dec 22 - 02:44 PM

VILLANCICO (Spanish)
(Gloria Fuertes [1917-1998] Paco Ibáñez 1934-)

Ya está el niño en el portal
que nació en la portería,
San José tiene taller,
y es la portera María.

Vengan sabios y doctores
a consultarle sus dudas,
el niño sabelotodo
está esperando en la cuna.

Dice que pecado es
hablar mal de los vecinos
y que pecado no es
besarse por los caminos.

Que se acerquen los pastores
que me divierten un rato
que se acerquen los humildes,
que se alejen los beatos.

Que pase la Magdalena,
que venga San Agustín,
que esperen los reyes magos
que les tengo que escribir.
CAROL


The child is already in the creche,
He who was born in the porter's lodge,
St. Joseph has a workshop,
And Mary is the doorkeeper.

Let wise men and doctors come
To consult him about their doubts,
The all-knowing child
Is waiting in the cradle.

He says that it is a sin
To speak ill of one's neighbors
And that it's not a sin
To kiss each other on the roads.

Let the shepherds come close
Who amuse me for a while,
Let the humble come closer,
Let the sanctimonious go away.

Let the Magdalene pass by,
Let St. Augustine come,
Let the Magi wait
For I have to write to them.

Live rendition by Paco Ibáñez
The very same song recorded by Paco Ibáñez with paintings (Botticelli, Dürer...)

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Joe Offer
Date: 22 Dec 22 - 06:25 PM

Not to be outdone, I sang Gaudete and Es ist ein Ros entsprungen at the Singaround on Dec 19.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 22 Dec 22 - 05:59 PM

some songs I sang this month:

CIAD TURAS MHIC DHÒMHNAILL A GHLASCHU (macaronic song, Scottish Gaelic and English, about a highlander's adventures in Glasgow). Posted on 11 Dec 1998 in the Macarónachas discussion thread https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=7921

IKH BIN A KLEYNER DREYDL (Yiddish song, I am a little dreidel, about a spinning top traditionally played at Chanukah) posted at Dreidel song/Dreydel song discussion https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=161289

and a couple more links to songs sung on the zoomsing this month

OCHO KANDELIKAS (Eight Candles, a Chanukah song in Ladino) posted on 18 Dec 2022 in the Happy C/Hanukkah thread https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=41943

TALADH CHRIOSDA (Scottish Gaelic, Christ Child Lullaby) posted at https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=7267

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 20 Dec 22 - 03:20 AM

Yesterday Arlene sang...
OCHO KANDELIKAS (Ladino = Judeo-Spanish)
Flory Jagoda (1923 – 2021)

Hanukka linda sta aki,
ocho kandelas para mi. (×2)

O - Una kandelika, dos kandelikas, trez kandelikas,
kuatro kandelikas sintyu kandelikas, sesh kandelikas,
siete kandelikas, ocho kandelas para mi.

Muchas fiestas vo fazer,
kon alegriyas y plazer. (×2)

Los pastelikos vo kumer,
kon almendrikas y la myel.
EIGHT LITTLE CANDLES


Beautiful Hanukkah is here,
eight candles for me. (×2)

O - One little candle, two little candles, three little candles,
four little candles, five little candles, six little candles,
seven little candles, eight candles for me.

Many parties I'll have,
with happiness/joys and pleasure. (×2)

Little pastries I'll eat,
with little almonds and honey. (×2)
Ocho Kandelitas Wikipedia entry.
Judeo-Spanish Spanish Lexicon for those interested in the language.

Live rendition by Flory Jagoda
Live rendition by Pink Martini ft. China Forbes, Ari Shapiro, Storm Large and Cantor Ida Rae Cahana


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Update: I hadn't noticed that Philippa had posted it in the Happy C/Hanukka thread two days ago.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 19 Dec 22 - 01:13 PM

HACIA BELÉN VA UNA BURRA (Spanish)

Hacia Belén va una burra, rin, rin,
yo me remendaba, yo me remendé,
yo me eché un remiendo, yo me lo quité,
cargado de chocolate.
Lleva su chocolatera, rin, rin,
yo me remendaba, yo me remendé,
yo me eché un remiendo, yo me lo quité,
su molinillo y su anafre.

María, María, ven acá corriendo
que el chocolatillo se lo están comiendo.
María, María, ven acá volando
que el chocolatillo se lo están comiendo.

En el portal de Belén, rin, rin,
yo me remendaba, yo me remendé,
yo me eché un remiendo, yo me lo quité,
gitanillos han entrado.
Y al Niño que está en la cuna, rin, rin,
yo me remendaba, yo me remendé,
yo me eché un remiendo, yo me lo quité,
los pañales le han quitado.

María, María, ven acá corriendo
que los pañalillos los están robando.
María, María, ven acá volando
que los pañalillos los están robando.

En el portal de Belén, rin, rin,
yo me remendaba, yo me remendé,
yo me eché un remiendo, yo me lo quité,
han entrado los ratones.
Y al bueno de San José, rin, rin,
yo me remendaba, yo me remendé,
yo me eché un remiendo, yo me lo quité,
le han roído los calzones.

María, María, ven acá corriendo
que los calzoncillos los están royendo,
María, María, ven acá volando
que los calzoncillos los están royendo.
A JENNY GOES TO BETHLEHEM

A jenny goes to Bethlehem, rin, rin,
I was mending, I mended,
I put a patch, I took it off,
Loaded with chocolate
She carries her chocolate, rin, rin,
I was mending, I mended,
I put a patch, I took it off,
Her grinder and her portable stove.

Mary, Mary, come here running
for they're eating the chocolate,
Mary, Mary, come here flying
for they're eating the chocolate.

In Bethlehem Nativity scene, rin, rin,
I was mending, I mended,
I put a patch, I took it off,
Little Gypsies have entered.
And to the Child who is in the cradle, rin, rin,
I was mending, I mended,
I put a patch, I took it off,
They've removed the diapers.

Mary, Mary, come here running
For they're robbing the diapers,
Mary, Mary, come here flying
For they're robbing the diapers.

In Bethlehem Nativity scene, rin, rin,
I was mending, I mended,
I put a patch, I took it off,
The mice have entered.
And to the good Saint Joseph, rin, rin,
I was mending, I mended,
I put a patch, I took it off,
They have gnawed the breeches.

Mary, Mary, come here running
For they're gnawing the breeches,
Mary, Mary, come here flying
For they're gnawing the breeches.
Note that the "mending" lines are worded with a reflexive "me" in Spanish, which means that the mending is about some piece of clothing of the singer.

Live rendition by the Orquesta Clásica Santa Cecilia. Escolanía del Sagrado Corazón de Rosales. 2017
Live rendition by the Coro de Cámara "Ars Nova" de Plasencia
Live rendition by the Colegio SEK - Ciudalcampo (Madrid)
Hacia Belén va una burra YouTube page.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 18 Dec 22 - 02:40 PM

On Dec. 12th I sang another carol...
CANTEM NADAL (Occitan)

Ieu me siái levat per un matinet
Que l'auba metiá son blanc mantelet.

Repic
Cantem Nadal, Nadal, Nadal,
Cantem Nadal encara.
Cantem Nadal, Nadal, Nadal,
Cantem Nadal encara.

Ai pres ma capòta e mon capulet
E mon cort mantèl de droguet* violet.

(Repic)

Puèi me'n siái anat cercar Guilhaumet,
"Qu'escotas aquí, gai pastorelet?"

(Repic)

Escoti cantar lo rossinholet,
Jamai n'ai ausit cant tant aimablet.

(Repic)

N'es lo rossinhòl ni autre aucelet
Mas del Paradís un bèl angelet.

(Repic)

Ditz qu'a Betelèm, dins un establet
Es nascut anuèit un Dieu enfantet.

(Repic)

Ai pres mon auboesa e mon flajolet
Guilhaume sa viòla ambe son arquet.

(Repic)

Venètz pastorèls, al sant Anhelet
Anirem ofrir un cant novelet.

(Repic)
LET'S SING CHRISTMAS

I got up one early morning
When the dawn was putting its little white mantel on.

(Chorus)
Let's sing Christmas, Christmas, Christmas,
Let's sing Christmas again.
Let's sing Christmas, Christmas, Christmas,
Let's sing Christmas again.

I took my cloak and my hood
And my short coat of violet wool*.

(Chorus)

Then I went to fetch little William,
"What are you listening to, gay little shepherd?"

(Chorus)

I'm listening to the little nightingale sing,
Never have I heard such a nice song.

(Chorus)

It's not the nightingale nor any other little bird,
But a beautiful angel from Paradise.

(Chorus)

He says that in Bethlehem, in a little stable,
Last night a Child God was born.

(Chorus)

I took my oboe and my flageolet,
William his viola with his bow.

(Chorus)

Come, shepherds, to the Holy Lamb
We'll go to present a new song.

(Chorus)
Recording by La Talvera
Recording by Renat Jurié, Les Passions, Les Sacqueboutiers, La Mounède
Recording by Bregada Berard
A Gascon version with lyrics
Recording by Maria Roanet (1st track) -the one I learned it from.
Live rendition with verses in English and chorus in Occitan (nobody told them that a final "m" is pronounced "n" or "ŋ")
Last but not least, our Mama Lisa's World page with the lyrics, an English translation (same as above), a sheet music, a midi file, a recording by yours truly and an embedded YouTube video with the first two verses sung by kids from a Calandreta school -Calandretas are bilingual (Occitan/French) schools in Southern France.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 18 Dec 22 - 01:54 PM

On December 5th I sang...
NADAL DELS AUCÈLS (Occitan)

Aicí l'estèla de Nadal,
Qu'es aquel bruch dessús l'ostal?
-Es una tropa d’aucelons
A Betelèm van dos a dos.
Dos a dos, dos a dos, dos a dos.
Van dos a dos, van dos a dos,
Van dos a dos."

Dins l'estable, lo Rei del Cèl
Dòrm entre l’ase e lo maurèl
"Digatz aucèls qué venètz far?
-Venèm nòstre Dieu adorar.
Adorar, adorar, adorar,
Dieu adorar, Dieu adorar,
Dieu adorar."

Lo pol s'avança lo primièr
Monta sul boès del rastelièr
E per començar l'orason
Entòna son "Cocorocon"
"Corocon, corocon, corocon
Cocorocon, cocorocon,
Cocorocon".

Lo mèrle arriba en estiflant
Lo linòt en canturlejant
Lo pijon fa "rocon rocon"
La lauseta "tira liron,
Ra liron, ra liron, ra liron,
Tira liron, tira liron
Tira liron".

Lo cardin sortís de son niu
Saluda e fa "rirli chiu chiu"
"Chiu chiu" respond lo passerat
E la calha fa "palpabat,
Palpabat, palpabat, palpabat".
Fa "palpabat, fa "palpabat",
Fa "palpabat."

Vaicí venir lo baticoet
Se pausa a costat del verdet
E sus l’albar lo rossinhòl
Canta a l'Enfant "re mi fa sòl,
Mi fa sòl, mi fa sòl, mi fa sòl.
Re mi fa sòl, re mi fa sòl,
Re mi fa sòl".

Per onorar lo Filh de Dieu
Venètz en granda devocion
Angèls, pastors, aucèls del cèl
Totes cantem Noèl Noèl,
Noèl, Noèl, Noèl.
Cantem Noèl, cantem Noèl,
Cantem Noèl,
Noèl
CHRISTMAS OF THE BIRDS

"Here is the Christmas star,
What is this noise above the house?"
"It's a troop of little birds,
To Bethlehem they go two by two,
Two by two, two by two, two by two.
They go two by two, they go two by two,
They go two by two."

In the stable/cowshed, the King of Heaven
Is sleeping between the ass and the ox.
"Tell, birds, what do you come for?"
"We come to worship our God.
To worship, to worship, to worship.
To worship our God, to worship our God
Worship our God."

The rooster goes forwards first,
It climbs on the hayrack wood,
And to start the oration,
Its launches into its cockle-doodle-do.
Doodle-do, doodle-do, doodle do.
Cockle-doodle-do, cockle-doodle-do.
Cokle-doodle-do.

The blackbird arrives whistling,
The linnet [arrives] humming,
The pigeon goes "roocoo roocoo"
The lark "teero leeroo,
Ro leeroo, ro leeroo, ro leroo,
Teero leeroo, teero leeroo,
Teero leeroo. "

The goldfinch goes out of its nest,
Greets and goes "rirlee cheew cheew"
"Cheew cheew" the passerine answers,
And the quail goes "palpabat,
Palpabat, palpabat, palpabat,"
It goes "palpabat", goes "palpabat",
Goes palpabat ".

Here comes the wagtail,
It sits besides the greenfinch,
And on the willow, the nightingale
Sings to the Child "re mi fa so,
Mi fa so, mi fa so, mi fa so.
Re mi fa so, re mi fa so,
Re mi fa so."

To honor God's Son,
Come with great devotion
Angels, shepherds, birds of the sky,
Let's all sing Christmas, Christmas.
Christmas, Christmas, Christmas.
Let's sing Christmas, let's sing Christmas,
Let's sing Christmas.
Christmas.
Recording by Maria Roanet The song is the 5th one and starts at 9:55

Recording of the tune -sheet music displayed on the video.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 28 Nov 22 - 02:21 PM

PAURE SATAN (Occitan)

Lo paure Satan es blet
Se'n va cuèch* coma un polet
Morrà de la macadura
Tura lura lura
Morrà de la macadura,
Lan tan tura lura lura.

L'enfant que n'es arribat
L'a quasi coma crebat
L'a mes en paura postura
Tura lura lura
Pareitrà plus qu'en pintura**,
Lan tan tura lura lura.

Fasiá tròp lo sufisent
Disiá que non crenhiá ren
Mai aquesta cachadura,
Tura lura lura
Li a balhat de tablatura,
Lan tan tura lura lura.

Eu fasiá lo grand senhor,
Se disiá diable d'onor,
A mordut una poma dura,
Tura lura lura
D'una poma mau madura,
Lan tan tura lura lura.

Mai Dieu que lo coneis ben
E que sap que non vau ren
Ven prendre nòstra natura,
Tura lura lura
Per reparar aquela injura
Lan tan tura lura lura.
POOR SATAN

Poor Satan is drained,
He's as cooked* as a chicken,
He'll die from the wounds.
Tura lura lura
He'll die from the wounds
Lan tan tura lura lura.

The child who's just arrived
Nearly killed him,
He put him in a bad position.
Tura lura lura
We'll only see him in paintings**
Lan tan tura lura lura.

He was being too self-important,
He was saying he feared nothing
But this blow,
Tura lura lura,
Has given him some trouble
Lan tan tura lura lura.

He was acting like a great lord,
He called himself the "devil of honor",
He bit a tough apple
Tura lura lura
An ill-ripened apple
Lan tan tura lura lura.

But God, who knows him well,
And knows that he's worthless,
He comes to take human form,
Tura lura lura,
To mend this insult
Lan tan tura lura lura.
*"Cuèch" means "cooked, done, baked". It also means exhausted and allows this play on words.
**Idiom: To see someone only in paintings means to not see them at all.

You'll find the original wording on this Mudcat post from the "Notre-Dame des Doms Provençal Carols" thread along with links to some recordings.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Joe Offer
Date: 21 Nov 22 - 09:05 PM

I sang "Somos el Barco" by Lorre Wyatt. It has a chorus that's half in Spanish. It has Spanish verses, but I haven't learned them yet.
-Joe-


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 21 Nov 22 - 02:18 PM

QUE SE NOS VA LA PASCUA (Spanish) (1582)
Luis de Góngora y Argote (1561-1627) / Paco Ibañez (1934 - )
(Only verses 1, 4, 5 and 6 are sung)

¡Que se nos va la Pascua, mozas,
Que se nos va la Pascua!


1 Mozuelas las de mi barrio,
Loquillas y confiadas,
Mirad no os engañe el tiempo,
La edad y la confianza.
No os dejéis lisonjear
De la juventud lozana,
Porque de caducas flores
Teje el tiempo sus guirnaldas.

¡Que se nos va la Pascua, mozas,
Que se nos va la Pascua!


2 Vuelan los ligeros años,
Y con presurosas alas
Nos roban, como harpías,
Nuestras sabrosas viandas.
La flor de la maravilla
Esta verdad nos declara,
Porque le hurta la tarde
Lo que le dio la mañana.

¡Que se nos va la Pascua, mozas,
Que se nos va la Pascua!


3 Mirad que cuando pensáis
Que hacen la señal del alba
Las campanas de la vida,
Es la queda, y os desarman
De vuestro color y lustre,
De vuestro donaire y gracia,
Y quedáis todas perdidas
Por mayores de la marca.

¡Que se nos va la Pascua, mozas,
Que se nos va la Pascua!


4 Yo sé de una buena vieja
Que fue un tiempo rubia y zarca,
Y que al presente le cuesta
Harto caro el ver su cara,
Porque su bruñida frente
Y sus mejillas se hallan
Más que roquete de obispo
Encogidas y arrugadas.

¡Que se nos va la Pascua, mozas,
Que se nos va la Pascua!


5 Y sé de otra buena vieja,
Que un diente que le quedaba
Se lo dejó este otro día
Sepultado en unas natas,
Y con lágrimas le dice:
«Diente mío de mi alma,
Yo sé cuándo fuiste perla,
Aunque ahora no sois caña.»

¡Que se nos va la Pascua, mozas,
Que se nos va la Pascua!


6 Por eso, mozuelas locas,
Antes que la edad avara
El rubio cabello de oro
Convierta en luciente plata,
Quered cuando sois queridas,
Amad cuando sois amadas,
Mirad, bobas, que detrás
Se pinta la ocasión calva.

¡Que se nos va la Pascua, mozas,
Que se nos va la Pascua!
EASTER IS LEAVING US, GIRLS
(or "Our Easter is leaving")


Easter is leaving us, girls,
Easter is leaving us!


Girls from my neighborhood,
Fool and confident,
Take heed that time, age and confidence
Do not deceive you.
Do not let yourself be flattered
By the glowing youth,
Because of faded flowers
Time weaves its garlands.

Easter is leaving us, girls,
Easter is leaving us!


The light years fly,
And with swift wings
They steal from us, like harpies,
Our tasty food.
The "flower of wonder"*
This truth tells us,
Because the afternoon steals from it
What the morning gave to it.

Easter is leaving us, girls,
Easter is leaving us!


See that when you think
That the bells of life
Make the dawn signal,
It is the curfew, and they disarm you
Of your color and glory,
Of your elegance and grace,
And you are all at lost
For being beyond the line**.

Easter is leaving us, girls,
Easter is leaving us!


I know of a good old woman
Who once was blonde and blue eyed,
And to whom it costs very much
To see her own face,
Because her shiny forehead
And her cheeks are,
More than a bishop's rock,
Shrunken and wrinkled.

Easter is leaving us, girls,
Easter is leaving us!


And I know of another good old woman,
Who had one tooth left
She left it, this other day,
Buried in some cream,
And with tears she says:
«Tooth of my very soul,
I know when you were a pearl,
Although now you are nothing.»

Easter is leaving us, girls,
Easter is leaving us!


That's why, crazy girls,
Before the greedy age
Turns the blond hair of gold
Into shining silver,
Like when you are liked,
Love when you are loved,
Look out, fools, for after,
Your opportunities will be lost***.

Easter is leaving us, girls,
Easter is leaving us!
* probably marygold
** to be now too old
*** lit. "Look out, fools, for behind / the occasion is painted bald", refering to the Greek god or Roman goddess "Occasion", that is Kairos, represented with hair on the front but with the back of the head bald, meaning that once you've let him/her pass, you have nothing to grab him/her. Hence the "grab the opportunities while you still can".

Recordings by Paco Ibáñez (1964 + 2008)
Recording by Isabel Parra

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 14 Nov 22 - 02:13 PM

LAS FIELAIRAS

Aval a la ribièra
I a una rica meison
Dedins son tres fielairas
Que fielan tot lo jorn.

Una s'apela Joana
E l'autra Marion,
L'autra s'apela Clara
Esclaira nèit e jorn.

Sa maire la penchena
D'un penche d'argenton,
E son paire la còfa
D'una auna de galon.

Quand ela se miralha
Dins l'aiga de la font,
Un aucelon se pausa
Per li far una orason.

Lo filh del rei passava
L'a trobada a la font,
"Digatz, bèla fielaira,
Aquò's vos Janeton?

-Nani, ma sòr ainada
S'apela d'aquel nom,
Se cercatz una amiga
Dintraz dins la meison.
THE SPINNERS

Down there, near the river
There's a rich house.
Inside are three spinners
Who spin all day long.

One is called Joan,
And the other Marion,
The other one is called Claire
She illuminates/shines* night and day.

Her mother combs her
With a silver comb,
And her father covers her head
With an ell of braid.

When she looks at herself
In the water of the spring,
A little bird sits
To tell her a prayer.

The king's son passed by,
He found her at the spring,
"Say, beautiful spinner,
Are you Janeton?"

"No, my elder sister
Is called this name,
If you're looking for a sweetheart,
Enter the house.

*Pun between "Clara" (Claire = clear, bright…) and "esclaira" (to light up, illuminate, shine….), both having the same "clar…" Latin root.

Recording by Gofannon
Recording by Rosina de Pèira
Recording by Flour de Rose (which means "River Rhône Flower" and is not related with roses whatsoever!)
Live rendition by a young Amaïa

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 07 Nov 22 - 05:04 AM

Last Monday, Maria sang "Red Samhain", 1st track of Башня Rowan's "Пчеловечность (Phumanity) album (2002)
КРАСНЫЙ САМАЙН (Russian)

Где же я тогда была?
Как жила все это время?
Наступили дни мои
на стеклянную траву.

Ворох листьев наотрез
разлетелся между теми,
кто уверен, что они
знают правду обо мне
сквозь листву,

что осыпалась тогда
с ослепительной рябины,
и с березы у окна,
и у клена над ручьем.

Ярким пламенем огня,
языком неугасимым
шорох листьев не молчит
над моею головой
каждым днем.

Где и краски, как не здесь?
Где и сгинуть, как не в осень!
На начало ноября
души листьев над землей.

Не коснется их зима -
вихри листьев вдаль уносят
всех, метнувшихся в костер,
всех, вступивших в хоровод,
оставляя золой.

В вихре пламени листвы,
в огнерыжем лисьем танце,
в вечных странствиях листа,
в буром, рдяном, золотом,
осеняя по пути
крыши, башни, колыбели,..

Когда буду улетать,
на прощание махну тебе крылом.
RED SAMHAIN

Where was I then?
How have I been living all this time?
My days have come
On the glass grass.

A pile of leaves
scattered amongst those
who are sure that they
know the truth about me
Through the leaves,

that fell then
from the dazzling rowan tree,
and the birch tree by the window,
And the maple tree over the brook.

The bright flame of fire,
the unquenchable tongue
The rustling of the leaves is not silent
above my head
and every day.

Where is there no paint if not here?
Where to die but in autumn!
For the beginning of November
Souls of leaves above the earth.

No winter touches them.
The whirlwinds of leaves take away
Of all those who dashed into the fire
all who have joined the circle,
Leaving ashes behind.

In a whirlwind of flaming leaves,
in the fiery dance of the fox,
in the eternal wanderings of the leaf,
in brown, ruddy, gold,
and the leaves, in brown, bark and gold.
roofs, towers, cradles...

When I fly away,
I'll wave goodbye to you.
(Translated by Deepl)
I don't speak any Slavic language so I rely on online translators. I found this one better than the one by Google but if someone does speak Russian and can make a better translation, please pm me and I'll fix this one.
Thanks!

Live rendition by Тикки Шельен (Tikki Shelyen)
Recording by Башня Rowan (Rowan Tower)
Live rendition by Tauran

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 07 Nov 22 - 04:05 AM

Last Monday Patty Clink and Joe Offer sang Du, du liegst mir im Herzen".

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 31 Oct 22 - 02:25 PM

VOCES DABA UN MARINERO
(Spanish)

Voces daba un marinero
que el agua se le llevaba,
le ha respondido el demonio
al otro lado del agua:

- ¿Qué me darías, marinero,
si la vida te salvara?
- Te daré mis tres navíos,
cargados de oro y de plata.

- Yo no quiero tus navíos,
ni tu oro, ni tu plata.
- Yo te daré mis tres hijas
y mi mujer por esclava.

- Yo no quiero tus tres hijas,
ni tu mujer por esclava,
que quiero que cuando mueras,
a mí me entregues el alma.

-El alma la entrego a Dios,
el cuerpo a la mar salada.
y el corazón que me queda
a la Virgen Soberana.

Y el marinero daba voces
y nadie le contestaba.
THE SAILOR WAS SCREAMING OUT


The sailor was screaming out
That the water was taking him away,
The Devil answered him
From the other side of the water:

"What would you give me, sailor,
If I saved your life?"
"I'll give you my three ships
Loaded with gold and silver."

"I don't want your ships,
Neither your gold nor your silver."
"I'll give you my three daughters
And my wife as a slave."

"I don't want your three daughters
Nor you wife as a slave,
I want that when you die
You give your soul to me."

"My soul I give to God,
My body to the salty sea,
And whatever heart I still have
To the Sovereign Virgin.

And the sailor was screaming out
And nobody was answering.
Recording by Joaquín Díaz


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 26 Oct 22 - 05:49 PM

This week I sang a song in Irish Gaelic, Thíos Cois na Trá Domh
https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=99906
and Linn Phipps sang a song in Scottish Gaelic, 'Illean Bithibh Sunndach
https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=171812


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Subject: translation of Flicka från Backafall
From: Felipa
Date: 20 Oct 22 - 05:33 PM

translation as given by the singer in the chat column on last Monday's zoom singaround

Flicka från Backafall (Girl from Backafall)
        
        Girl from Backafall, the brig Three Brothers
        is cruising tonight in the Caribbean Sea
        While a land wind from the coast to the south
        caresses like the Sound back home around the island.
        The air is spiced with a thousand perfumes
        but I would abandon them, every one,
        toward being allowed to wander among Backafall's mallows
        - all while the moon keeps watch over Hven.
        
        Do not wait for me in the summer Ellen;
        then I shall still sail the line in the North.
        But when you stand by the church in the evening
        then think I'm a fllitting insect
        which without leave annoys your temple
        and - while you flick with your small hands -
        peeks down under the neck of your blouse
        - all while the moon shines on the mallows.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 18 Oct 22 - 01:24 PM

You can find the lyrics to Flicka från Backafall in this pdf or this page or this one and some others if you put "Flicka från Backafall, briggen Tre Bröder" in a search engine. You can also find a score here. I couldn't find a translation but an online translator might give you an idea (IMO it's better to try several of them...)

Excerpt from the 1953 movie including the song. The lyrics are below the video.
Recording by Tommy Körberg"


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 17 Oct 22 - 06:29 PM

Sung in Irish Gaelic earlier this month
Oró 'S é do Bheatha Bhaile
https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=38159

Mo Ghille Mear
https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=7161

Tonight both Jerry O'Neill and I sang Douglas Hyde's Irish language translation of The Castle of Dromore. Caislean Droim an Óir. That song is already in the thread index, having been sung last Oct. And Ann Coleman sang a song in Scottish Gaelic, Breisleach https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=171776

Jim Lucas sang a Swedish song,Flicka från Backafall (girl from Backafall), text by Gabriel Jönsson, tune by Gunnar Turesson


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 17 Oct 22 - 02:21 PM

QU'ALLAIS-TU FAIRE À LA FONTAINE (French)

[Mari]. Qu'allais-tu faire à la fontaine
Corbleu*, Marion
Qu'allais-tu faire à la fontaine ?
[Femme] -J'étais allée quérir de l'eau mon Dieu, mon ami.
J'étais allée quérir de l'eau.

[M] -Mais qui est-ce donc qui te parlait ?
[F] -C'était la fille de not' voisine.

[M] -Les femmes ne portent pas d' culottes** !
[F] -C'était sa jupe entortillée.

[M] -Les femmes ne portent pas d'épée !
[F] -C'était son fuseau qui pendait.

[M] -Les femmes ne portent pas d' moustaches !
[F] -C'étaient des mûres qu'elle mangeait.

[M] -Le mois de mai n'a pas de mûres !
[F] -C'était une branche d'automne.

[M] -Va m'en quérir une assiettée
[F] -Les oiseaux les ont toutes mangées !

[M] -Alors, je te coup'rai la tête
[F] -Alors, que ferez-vous du reste ?

[M] -Je le jett'rai par la fenêtre
[F] -Adroite et souple je saurai être.

[M] -Vite, sans crier, fais ta prière
[F] -Mettrez au moins mes os en terre ?

[M] -Pour une fois je te pardonne
[F] -Pour une fois et pour bien d'autres.
WHAT DID YOU GO AT THE FOUNTAIN FOR?

[Husband] "What did you go at the fountain for?
Zounds, Marion!
What did you go at the fountain for?"
[Wife] "I'd gone to fetch some water. My God, my dear!
I'd gone to fetch some water."

[H] "But who was speaking to you?"
[W] "It was our neighbor's daughter."

[H] "Women don't wear pants."
[W] "It was her wrapped skirt."

[H] "Women don't carry a sword."
[W] "It was her spindle that was hanging."

[H] "Women don't have a moustache."
[W] "It was blackberries she was eating."

[H] "The month of May has no blackberries"
[W] "It was an autumn branch."

[H] "Go fetch me a plateful."
[W] "The birds have eaten them all."

[H] "Then I'll cut your head off!"
[W] "And then, what will you do with the rest?"

[H] "I'll throw it through the window!"
[W] "I'll know how to be handy and supple!"

[H] "Quick, without crying, say your prayer!"
[W] "Will you at least bury my bones?"

[H] "For once, I forgive you."
[W] "For once and many other times."

*"Corbleu" was an euphemism for "Corps de Dieu" (God's body)
**"culotte" used to mean "men's pants/breeches" while nowadays it means women's panties

This song is said to be from the 17th century. Eugène Rolland (1846-1909) collected some more in several areas in France in at least 3 languages (= more than 3 dialects!) in his Recueil de chansons populaires, 2 (1883) -with scores.

Here is an Occitan version of the song
LAS REVIRADAS DE MARION (Occitan)

[Òme] Ont èras tu tantòst anada?
Per Diu! Sanc Diu! Còrblu!* Marion!
Ont èras tu tantòst anada?
[Femna]-Al jardin culir d'ensalada.
Jèsus! Mon Diu! Jèsus! Mon amic!
Al jardin culir d'ensalada.

[Ò] -Qual es que te fasiá companha?
[F]- Èra ben lèu ma sòr l'ainada.

[Ò] -Las femnas pòrtan pas de bragas.
[F] -Éra sa farda retroçada

[Ò] -Las femnas pòrtan pas d'espasa.
[F] -Es sa conolha que fialava.

[Ò] -Las femnas pòrtan pas mostachas.
[F] -Éra d'amoras que minjava

[Ò] -D'amoras n'i a pas per gelada.
[F] -Éran de l'annada passada.

[Ò] -Vai te'n me'n quèrre una assietada.
[F] -Los aucelons las an minjadas

[Ò] -Tu n'es una garça provada!
[F] -Non! La soi pas encara estada.

[Ò] -E ieu te coparai la crèsta!
[F] -E puèi que faràs tu del reste?

[Ò] -Lo jetarai per la fenèstra!
[F] -Los aucelons ne faràn fèsta!
MARION'S RIPOSTES

[Husband] "Where did you go lately?
By God! Damnit! Zounds! Marion!
Where did you go lately?"
[Wife] "To the garden to pick salad.
Jesus! My God! Jesus! My dear!
To the garden to pick salad."

[H] "Who kept you company?"
[W] "It was maybe my elder sister."

[H] "Women don't wear pants."
[W] "It was her rolled-up skirt."

[H] "Women don't carry a sword."
[W] "It was the distaff she was spinning."

[H] "Women don't have a moustache."
[W] "It was blackberries she was eating."

[H] "There's no blackberries when there's frost."
[W] "They were from last year."

[H] "Go fetch me a plateful."
[W] "The little birds have eaten them."

[H] "You're a proven bitch!"
[W] "No! I'm not one yet!"

[H] "I'll cut your crest off!"
[W] "And then, what will you do with the rest?"

[H] "I'll throw it through the window!"
[W] "The little birds will have a feast!"
*Per Diu = "by God", "Sanc Diu" "[by] God's blood", "Còrblu", from the French "Corbleu" euphemism for "Corps de Dieu" ([by] God's body). Cf. the French "Palsambleu, corbleu…" in which "bleu" replaces "Dieu".

There are different tunes to this song though the lyrics are more or less the same.
There are also French versions such as the one above

Louis Lambert (1835-1908) collected a few versions in his "Chants et chansons populaires du Languedoc, 2" (1906) -with scores.

Recording of a slightly different version by Laüsa, a Gascon band + its live rendition
Here is a live rendition of another version by the late Jean-Marie and Odette Vidalenc.
Another one by the late Henriette Durand.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 10 Oct 22 - 05:52 PM

Oh yes it does! Have a look at these versions on "Pan-Hispanic Ballad Project" by the University of Washington. In many versions the wife says "Kill me as I deserve it" and the husband does kill her -usually by stabbing her. He sometimes stabs her without "her permission"!


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: leeneia
Date: 10 Oct 22 - 04:22 PM

Hi, Monique. When I heard you sing this song, with its jaunty melody and its jaunt "que que que," I knew I had heard it somewhere else. Finally it came to me - it's on an album of French Canadian music I have had for many years.

I think the last verse doesn't really belong. It's too mean for the rest of the song.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 10 Oct 22 - 02:23 PM

LA ESPOSA INFIEL (Spanish)

Estaba una señorita sentadita en su balcón,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
sentadita en su balcón.

Esperando que pasara el segundo batallón,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
el segundo batallón.

Pasó por allí un soldado de muy mala condición,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
de muy mala condición.

- Suba, suba, caballero, dormirá una noche o dos,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
dormirá una noche o dos.

Mi marido está de caza en los montes de León,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
en los montes de León.

Y para que no regrese, le echaré una maldición,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
le echaré una maldición.

Que se caiga del caballo y muera sin confesión,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
y muera sin confesión.

Estando en estas palabras, el maridito llamó,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
el maridito llamó:

- Ábreme la puerta luna, ábreme la puerta sol,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
ábreme la puerta sol.

Que te traigo un conejito de los montes de León,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
de los montes de León.

Bajaba por la escalera, cambiadita de color,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
cambiadita de color.

Al entrar en el portal, el marido preguntó,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
el marido preguntó:

¿De quién es aquella capa que en mi percha veo yo,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
que en mi percha veo yo?

- Tuya, tuya, maridito, que te la he comprado yo,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
que te la he comprado yo.

- ¿De quién es aquel sombrero que en mi percha veo yo,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
que en mi percha veo yo?

- Tuyo, tuyo, maridito, que te lo he comprado yo,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
que te lo he comprado yo.

Se fueron para la cama, y una cabeza encontró,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
y una cabeza encontró.

- ¿De quién es esa cabeza que en mi cama veo yo,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
que en mi cama veo yo?

- Del niño de la vecina que en mis brazos se durmió,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
que en mis brazos se durmió.

- Caramba con el chiquillo, tiene barba como yo,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
tiene barba como yo.

Le cogió por la cabeza, le tiró por el balcón,
que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón
le tiró por el balcón.
THE UNFAITHFULL WIFE

There was a young lady sitting on her balcony,
with the oritin, with the oriton*
sitting on her balcony.

Waiting for the second battalion to pass…



A soldier passed by there, in very poor condition…



"Come up, come up, sir, you'll sleep a night or two…



My husband is hunting in the mountains of Leon…



And so that he doesn't come back, I'll put a curse on him…



Let him fall from his horse and die without confession…"



As she was saying these words, the hubby called…



"Open the door for me, [my] moon, open the door for me, [my] sun…



I bring you a bunny from the mountains of Leon…"



She went down the stairs, with her complexion changed…



Entering the door, the husband asked…



"Whose cape is that, that I see on my hanger…?"



"Yours, yours, hubby, I bought it for you…"



"Whose hat is that, that I see on my hanger…?"



"Yours, yours, hubby, I bought it for you…"



They went towards the bed, and he found a head…



"Whose head is that, that I see in my bed…?"



"To the neighbor's child who fell asleep in my arms…"



"Oh, what a little boy, he has a beard like me…"



He grabbed her** by the head, [he] threw her** off the balcony…
*This has no meaning.
**There's no way to know for sure if it's "her" or "him" as "le" can be either in Spanish. In other versions, the husband throws her ("la") off the balcony but in others he grabs "le" by the moustache, so it can only be the lover.

This is a version of an anonymous ballad from the 1500's. It's also known as "Blanca Niña", "Albaniña"... It was first published in "Tercera Parte de la Silva de Romances", Zaragoza, 1551. You can read the original version of this ballad in "Primavera y flor de romances ó Colección de los más viejos y más populares romances castellanos", vol. 2, by Ferdinand Wolf, Berlin, 1856, where the source is mentioned.
You can also read it in Antología de poetas líricos castellanos: desde la formación del idioma hasta nuestros días vol. 3, by Marcelino Menéndez y Pelayo, Madrid, 1900

You can find 126 versions of this ballad in Spanish, Catalan and Portuguese on Pan-Hispanic Ballad Project, University of Washington.
I find that this version lacks a 4th line in which the soldier tells her he'd like to sleep with her, which better explain "Come up, come up, sir, you'll sleep a night or two".
I find some versions kind of funny as the husband takes his wife to give her back to her father but the father gives him some "Now-it's-not-my-business" answer and in others versions he kills her but dies an hour later and the lover "as a scoundrel, remained in bed". All that for this!

Recording by Joaquín Díaz

A different tune and slightly different lyrics recorded by Candeal

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 26 Sep 22 - 02:20 PM

MAIULIN (Italian)

Maiulin bela Maiulin – (Maiulin)
dove l'hai messo quel bambino che avevi
oi mamma della mia oi mamma l'ho gettato in peschiera.

Figlia mia parla più pian- (parla più pian-)
parla più piano che nessuno ti senta
ti sente la giustizia che ti viene a prendere.

Mentre faceva quei discorsin -(quei discorsin)
si sente dare un colpettino alla porta
la bella Maiulin l'è casca in terra morta.

Puoi l'hanno presa, l'hanno legà- (l'hanno legà-)
l'hanno legata con catene sicure
la bella Maiulin-a l'è in prigioni oscure.

Mamma mia, portèm del pàn, (portèm del pan)
portèm del pane e del'acqua ben fresca
l'aria della prigione mi fa male alla testa".

Oi mamma mia mandeme un bà- (mandeme un bà-)
mandeme un bacio sopra alle catene
che chi ha peccato ha da scontà alle pene
mandeme un bacio sopra alle catene
che chi ha peccato ha da scontà alle pene.
MAIULIN

Maiulin, beautiful Maiulin – (chorus) Maiulin
Where have you put this baby you had
oh mamma, oh mamma I threw him in the fishpond.

Daughter, speak lower -(speak lower)
Speak lower so that nobody can hear you
The justice hears you, who comes to take you away.

While she was doing these little speeches (these little speeches)
A tiny knock on the door could (lit. "can") be heard
The beautiful Maiulin fell dead on the floor.

Then they took her, they tied her (they tied her)
They tied her with secure chains
The beautiful Maiulina is in a dark jail.

"Mamma, bring me bread, (bring me bread)
Bring me bread and very cool water
The air of the jail gives me a headache".

Oh mamma, send me a kiss (send me a kiss)
Send me a kiss over the chains
For who has sinned must serve their sentence
Send me a kiss over the chains
For who has sinned must serve their sentence.
*Maiulin/Maiulina is a pet name for Mary.

Recording by Alberto Cesa e Cantovivo
Recording by Almanacco popolare
Recording by Nadia Gabi E Le Due Nel Cappello

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 19 Sep 22 - 02:22 PM

L’Escriveta - Occitan ballad, aka "L’Escribòta", "Flurança" / "Florença", "Ne maridan Liseta"... There are several versions of it in Occitan. You’ll get a version, a long bibliography where the song can be found and a study in "Le romancéro populaire de la France; choix de chansons populaires françaises: textes critiques par George Doncieux, avec un avant-propos et un index musical par Julien Tiersot"
You’ll find several versions (lyrics and score) in "Romania Vol.15". Both books are in French.
The Piedmontese version is 'L Moru Sarazin’ (among other spellings). Constatino Nigra collected some versions that you’ll find in Canti popolari del Piemonte -in Italian
There’s at least one Catalan version of it.
There's at least one longer Occitan version that I'll post later.
L'ESCRIVETA (Occitan)

Guilhaume se marida Guilhaume tan polit
La pren tan joveneta que se sap pas vestir

Lo sèr la desabilha, l'abilha lo matin
E la balha a sa maire per la i far noirir.

Guilhaume part en guèrra per la daissar grandir
Al cap de sèt annadas, es tornat al païs.

S'en va tustar a sa pòrta: "Escriveta, durbis!"
Sa maire a la fenèstra respon: "N'es plus aicí.

Los Moros te l'an presa, los Moros Sarrasins.
- Trobarai Escriveta quand sauriái de morir!"

Rencontra de lavairas, lavavan linge fin
"Digatz, digatz, lavairas, qu'es lo castèl d'aicí?

- Es lo castèl del Moro, del Moro Sarrasin.
- Cossí que se pòt faire per i dintrar, cossí?

- Abilhatz-vos en fòrma de paure pelegrin
Demandaretz l'almoina tot lo long del camin."

Tot en fasent l'almoina, reconeis son marit
"Dintratz dins l'escuriera, selatz lo bèl rossin!

Ieu monti dins ma cambra, de serga me vestir."
E del còfre del Moro, prenguèt l'aur lo plus fin.

"Escriveta es partida, delial de pelegrin!
De tot l’aur que n'empòrta, fariá la mar lusir!

Sèt ans ieu l'ai noirida de bon pan, de bon vin,
Sèt raubas l'i ai crompadas, de seda, de satin.

- Se sèt ans l'as noirida, al diable, Sarrasin!
Èra la mia femneta, la flor de mon païs."
L'ESCRIVETA

Guilhaume (William) gets married, Guilhaume so handsome,
He takes her so young than she can't get dressed.

In the evening, he undresses her, he dresses her in the morning
And he gives her to his mother to get her fed.

Guilhaume goes to war to allow her to grow up,
After seven years, he's come back home

He knocks on the door, "Escriveta, open up!"
His mother answers, "She's no longer here.

The Moors took her away from you, the Saracen Moors."
"I will find Escriveta, even if I should die!"

He runs into washerwomen washing fine laundry,
"Tell me, tell me, washerwomen, what's this castle?"

"It's the Moor's castle, the Saracen Moor's."
"How can I enter it, how?"

"Dress up as a poor pilgrim,
You'll beg for alms along the way."

While giving alms, she recognizes her husband,
"Get into the stable, saddle the fine russet horse.

I go up to my bedroom to dress with serge."
And from the Moor's coffer, she took the finest gold.

"Escriveta has left, disloyal pilgrim!
With all the gold he takes away, the sea would shine!

Seven years I fed her with good bread and good wine,
Seven dresses I bought to her, [made] of silk, of satin."

"If you've fed her for seven years, to hell with you Saracen!
She was my little wife, the flower of my land."
Recording by the late Alberto Cesa

A different tune and slightly different lyrics by Los Mourres de Porcs

A medley of both Provençal (L'escriveta) and Piedmontese (Il Moru Sarasin) versions by Dona Bela

A Piedmontese version by Cantovivo

A different version audio only

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 02:56 AM

Yesterday, as Mudcat was down, I couldn't copy and paste the lyrics and translation of the song I meant to sing as I usually do, so I sang something else. It reads here that it's a traditional kids song.
We have it on Mama Lisa's World where you'll find a midi and a sheet music along with the lyrics and this very English translation -and a French and a Spanish one if you switch to these languages on the site.
PAPETA CALHAU (Occitan)

I aviá un cat e un chin (x2)
Que fasián la terralha
Traulala, Papeta Calhau
I aviá un cat e un chin
Que fasián la terralha

I aviá una mosca al plafond (x2)
Que s'espetava de rire
Traulala, Papeta Calhau…

Tombèt de la muralha
Se copèt las doas cuèissas…

Lo lendeman matin
La menèrem a l'ospici…

Lo suslendeman matin
La retrobèrem mòrta…

Lo jorn de l'enterrament
Faguèrem una panta de rire…

I aviá per capelan
Un chin vestit de negre…

I aviá per enfants de còr
Dos cats vestits de roge…

I aviá per corbilhard
La carreta de Lazari…

I aviá per carretièr
Denis vestit en mosca

Sortiguent del cementèri
Rescontrèrem una nòça

Aquí lo dòl passat
De la paura mosqueta…

Nos metèrem a dançar
Al mitan de la carrièra…
GRANDPA STONE

There were a cat and a dog (x2)
Who were washing the dishes
Trawlala, Grandpa Stone
There were a cat and a dog
Who were washing the dishes

There was a fly on the ceiling (x2)
Who was laughing his head off
Trawlala, Grandpa Stone…

He fell down from the wall
He broke his two thighs…

The next morning
We brought him to the hospital…

The morning after
We found him dead…

On the day of the burial
We had a lot of fun…

There was as a priest
A dog dressed in black…

There were as altar boys
Two cats dressed in red…

There was as a hearse
Lazarus' cart…

There was as a driver
Dennis dressed up as a fly.

When going out from the churchyard
We came across a wedding.

When the poor fly's mourning
Was over

We started to dance
In the middle of the street…
Recording by Aqueles -a band from around here who have a Sète accent where they pronounce the final stressless "a" as /a/ instead of the usual Languedoc /ɔ/.
Recording by Gérard Franco that you'll also find at the 1st link at the top.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 13 Sep 22 - 02:16 AM

Damn! I hadn't checked and there's already a Mudcat thread about its origin where you'll find other Mudcat threads links but now it's too late and here is my stuff anyway!

On Monday 09/05, Barrie Mathers sang…
SCHÖN IS DER MORGEN
Traditional/Gerd Koethe, Roland Heck

Schön ist der Morgen
Schau aus dem Fenster
Ganz neu geboren
Schenkt er den Tag
Nimm ihn und freu dich
Danke und denke
Wieder kommt für mich ein neuer Tag!

Schön ist der Morgen
Singen die Lärchen
Was nützen Sorgen
Schenk sie der Nacht
Nimm dir ein Beispiel
Und sei zufrieden
Oft willst du zu viel?
Frag dich warum!

Schön ist der Morgen
Fang wieder neu an!
Gestern und Sorgen
Alt und vorbei!
Danke und denke
Die Welt kann schön sein?
Darum verschenke nie deinen Tag!

Schön ist der Morgen
Schau aus dem Fenster
Ganz neu geboren
Schenkt er den Tag
Nimm ihn und freu dich
Danke und denke
Wieder kommt für mich ein neuer Tag!
THE MORNING IS BEAUTIFUL
(Literal translation)

The morning is beautiful
Look out of the window
Brand new born
It gives the day [as a gift]
Take it and be happy
Thank and think
Another day is coming for me again!

The morning is beautiful
Sing the larches.
What's the use of worrying?
Give them to the night
Take an example
And be content
Do you often want too much?
Ask yourself why!

The morning is beautiful
Start again anew!
Yesterday and worries
Old and gone!
Thank and think
The world can be beautiful?
So never give your day away!

The morning is beautiful
Look out of the window
Brand new born
It gives the day [as a gift]
Take it and be happy
Give thanks and think
Another day is coming for me!
Verses 2 & 3 by Art Garfunkel Jr.

Schön ist der Morgen
Singen die Lerchen
Ganz ohne Sorgen
Freu'n sie sich nur
Nimm dir ein Beispiel
Sei mehr zufrieden
Oft willst du zu viel
Frag' mal, warum

Schön ist der Morgen
Sonne und Regen
Du bist geborgen
Solang du glaubst
Kommen und gehen
Können die Stunden
Alles verstehen
Kann der Mensch nie


The morning is beautiful
Sing the larks
Without any worries
Just being happy
Take an example
Be more satisfied
You often want too much
Ask yourself why

The morning is beautiful
Sun and rain
You are safe
As long as you believe
Come and go
Can the hours (the hours may come and go)
Understand everything
Man never can
ORIGINAL VERSION
Traditional/Eleanor Farjeon

Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing
Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the Word

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dew fall on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where His feet pass

Mine is the sunlight
Mine is the morning
Born of the One Light Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's recreation of the new day

Morning has broken like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
Praise for the singing
Praise for the morning
Praise for them springing fresh from the Word


"Morning Has Broken is a Christian hymn first published in 1931. It has words by English author Eleanor Farjeon and was inspired by the village of Alfriston in East Sussex, then set to a traditional Scottish Gaelic tune, "Bunessan". It is often sung in children's services and in funeral services
Bunessan is a hymn tune based on a Scottish folk melody, first associated with the Christmas carol "Child in the Manger" and later and more commonly with "Morning Has Broken". It is named for the village of Bunessan in the Ross of Mull. -From Wikipedia


Cat Steven's version:

Morning has broken like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken like the first bird.
Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning!
Praise for them springing fresh from the Word.

Sweet the rain's new fall sunlit from heaven,
Like the first dewfall on the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden,
sprung in completeness where God's feet pass.

Mine is the sunlight! Mine is the morning
Born of the one light Eden saw play!
Praise with elation, praise every morning,
God's recreation of the new day!


Recording in German by Nana Mouscouri
Recording in German by Art Garfunkel Jr

Recording in English by Cat Stevens

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 05 Sep 22 - 01:51 PM

BRAVE MARIN (French)

Brave marin revient de guerre,
Tout doux,
Brave marin revient de guerre,
Tout doux,
Tout mal chaussé, tout mal vêtu :
"Pauvre marin, d'où reviens-tu ?
Tout doux.

- Madame, je reviens de guerre,
Tout doux,
- Madame, je reviens de guerre,
Tout doux,
- Que l’on apporte du vin blanc
Que le marin boit en passant !"
Tout doux.

Brave marin se mit à boire,
Tout doux,
Brave marin se mit à boire,
Tout doux,
Se mit à boire et à chanter
Et la belle hôtesse à pleurer,
Tout doux.

" Ah ! dites-moi, la belle hôtesse,
Tout doux,
Ah ! dites-moi, la belle hôtesse,
Tout doux,
Regrettez-vous votre vin blanc
Que le marin boit en passant ?
Tout doux.

- C'est pas mon vin que je regrette,
Tout doux,
C'est pas mon vin que je regrette,
Tout doux,
Mais c'est la mort de mon mari,
Monsieur, vous ressemblez à lui !"
Tout doux.

- Ah ! dites-moi, la belle hôtesse,
Tout doux,
Ah ! dites-moi, la belle hôtesse,
Tout doux,
Vous aviez de lui trois enfants.
En voici quatre à présent !
Tout doux.

- J'ai tant reçu de tristes lettres,
Tout doux,
- J'ai tant reçu de tristes lettres,
Tout doux,
Qu'il était mort et enterré,
Que je me suis remariée."
Tout doux.

Brave marin vida son verre,
Tout doux,
Brave marin vida son verre,
Tout doux,
Sans dire un mot, tout en pleurant
Il regagna son bâtiment.
Tout doux.
GOOD SAILOR

Good sailor comes back from war,
Softly,
Good sailor comes back from war,
Softly,
Very ill shoed, very ill dressed,
"Good sailor, whence do you come back?"
Softly,

"Madam, I'm coming back from war,
Softly,
Madam, I'm coming back from war,
Softly,
Let some white wine been brought
That the sailor will drink passing by!"
Softly,

Good sailor started to drink,
Softly,
Good sailor started to drink,
Softly,
Started to drink and to sing,
The beautiful hostess [started] to weep,
Softly,

"Ah, tell me, beautiful hostess,"
Softly,
"Ah, tell me, beautiful hostess,"
Softly,
"Do you regret your white wine
That the sailor drinks when passing by?"
Softly,

"It's not my wine I regret,"
Softly,
"It's not my wine I regret,"
Softly,
But it's my husband's death,
Sir, you look like him!"
Softly,

"Ah, tell me, beautiful hostess,"
Softly,
"Ah, tell me, beautiful hostess,"
Softly,
You had three children by him,
Here are four of them now."
Softly,

"I received so many sad letters,"
Softly,
"I received so many sad letters,"
Softly,
"That he was dead and buried,
So I married again".
Softly,

Good sailor emptied his glass,
Softly,
Good sailor emptied his glass,
Softly,
Without saying a word, while crying
He went back to his ship.
Softly.
In France the sailor is very seldom a soldier but some versions do exist about a soldier (my mom used to sing one). The lyrics are the same but for "soldat" instead of "marin" and "régiment" instead of "bâtiment" at the very end.
In Canada the sailor is always a soldier. Here are several versions collected in Canada. In these versions, the soldier gets angry at the end, sometimes so angry that he kills wife and children.

Recording by Nana Mouscouri

Live rendition by Guy Béart

YouTube Brave marin page

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 05 Sep 22 - 01:40 PM

Dilmana Dilbero: Here are the lyrics, the transliteration and an English translation. Please note that I don't speak Bulgarian so if the person who sang it has a better translation, please pm me. Thanks.

ДИЛМАНО, ДИЛБЕРО (Bulgarian)

Дилмано дилберо, Дилмано дилберо
кажи ми как се сади пиперо (x2)

Да цъфти да върже, да цъфти да върже
да береш береш береш как сакаш (x2)

Помуни го побуцни го, помуни го побуцни го
та така се сади сади пиперо (x2)
BEAUTIFUL DILMANA

"Beautiful Dilmana, beautiful Dilmana
Tell me how to plant peppers? (x2)

So that they bloom, they bind,
And I can have as much as I wish? (x2)"

"Push them deep, push them deep,
It's how you plant the peppers."

Transliteration:

Dilmano dilbero, Dilmano dilbero
kazhi mi kak se sadi pipero (x2)

Da tsufti da vurzhe, da tsufti da vurzhe
da beresh beresh beresh kak sakash (x2)

Pomuni go pobutsni go, pomuni go pobutsni go
ta taka se sadi sadi pipero (x2)

Bulgarian lyrics with a transliteration, French and English translations on Tous aux Balkans website

Live rendition here.
Dilmano dilbero YouTube page

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 05 Sep 22 - 01:14 PM

Last week "Di Zaposhkelekh" was sung in English and Yiddish, along with "The Song of the Volga Boatmen" in Russian (link to a Mudcat thread about it, "Ey, Ukhnyem!") and "Dilmano dilbero" (link to "Tous aux Balkans" but you'll find it below).


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 15 Aug 22 - 02:24 PM

This popular ballad derives from a "romance" by Juan del Encina (1468-1529) well spread in the 16th century (Cf. below the video links).
EL ENAMORADO Y LA MUERTE
(Anonymous / Joaquín Díaz)

Yo me estaba reposando, durmiendo como solía,
soñaba con mis amores que en mis brazos los tenía.
Vi entrar señora tan blanca, aún más que la nieve fría.
- ¿Por dónde has entrado amor? ¿Cómo has entrado, mi vida?
Las puertas están cerradas, ventanas y celosías.
- No soy el amor, amante; la Muerte que Dios te envía.
- Ay Muerte tan rigurosa; déjame vivir un día.
- Un día no puedo darte; una hora tienes de vida.
Muy deprisa se levanta, más deprisa se vestía.
Ya se va para la calle en donde su amor vivía.
- Ábreme la puerta, blanca; ábreme la puerta, niña.
- ¿Cómo te podré yo abrir, si la ocasión no es venida?
Mi padre no fue al palacio; mi madre no está dormida.
- Si no me abres esta noche, ya no me abrirás, querida.
La Muerte me está buscando; junto a ti, vida sería.
- Vete bajo la ventana, donde labraba y cosía;
te echaré cordón de seda para que subas arriba,
y si el cordón no alcanzare, mis trenzas añadiría.
La fina seda se rompe, la Muerte que allí venía:
- Vamos el enamorado, la hora ya está cumplida.
THE LOVER AND DEATH


I was resting, sleeping as usual,
Dreaming of my love, [dreaming] that I had her in my arms,
I saw a very white lady come in, even whiter than the cold snow.
"Where did you enter through, love? How did you enter, my life?
The doors are closed, [so are] the windows and slatted shutters."
"I'm not love, lover; [I'm] the Death that God sends you."
"Ah! Death so harsh, let me live one day."
"One day I cannot give you; you have an hour of life [left]."
Very fast he gets up, even faster he dressed.
Now he's heading to the street where his love lived.
"Open the door for me, fair one*; open the door for me, girl."
"How could I open [the door] for you since the opportunity isn't appropriate/the time isn't right?
My father did not go to the palace, my mother isn't asleep."
"If you don't open tonight, you won't open any more, beloved.
Death is looking for me; next to you, it'd be life."
"Go under the window where I would embroider and sew,
I'll throw a silk string for you to come up,
And if the string wouldn't reach, I'd add my braids."
The fine silk breaks, Death was coming by:
"Let's go, the lover, the hour has expired."
*Lit. "white". "blanca" (white), "niña" (girl, child) were used to address or to refer to female sweethearts to highlight their purity/innocence.

Note that I kept the verbs in present or past tenses as they are in the original version, which can sound quite weird in English but so does it in Spanish as some tenses are more about rhyming than time consistency.

There are slightly different lyrics for this ballad sung on different tunes.

Live rendition by Joaquín Díaz.

Recording by Víctor Jara.

Recording by Washington Carrasco y Cristina Fernández.

Recording and live rendition by Paco Ibáñez.

Live rendition by Alalumbre Folk.

YouTube "El enamorado y la muerte" page

This popular ballad derives from a "romance" by Juan del Encina (1468-1529) well spread in the 16th century:
Original work.
Here is the transcription in the original spelling of old copies:
Yo me estava reposando,
durmiendo como solía.
Recordé, triste, llorando
con gran pena que sentía.
Levanté me muy sin tiento
de la cama en que dormía,
cercado de pensamiento,
que valer no me podía.
Mi passión era tan fuerte
que de mí yo no sabía.
Conmigo estava la Muerte
por tenerme compañía.
Lo que más me fatigava
no era porque muría,
mas era porque dexava
de servir a quien servía.
Servía yo una señora
que más que a mí la quería,
y ella fue la causadora
de mi mal sin mejoría.
La media noche passada,
ya que era cerca el día,
salíme de mi posada
por ver si descansaría.
Fui para donde morava
aquella que más quería,
por quien yo triste penava,
mas ella no parecía.
Andando todo turbado
con las ansias que tenía,
vi venir a mi cuidado
dando bozes, y dezía:
«Si dormís, linda señora,
recordad por cortesía,
pues que fuestes causadora
de la desventura mía.
Remediad mi gran tristura,
satisfazed mi porfía,
porque si falta ventura
del todo me perdería.»
Y con mis ojos llorosos,
un triste llanto hazía
con sospiros congoxosos,
y nadie no parecía.
En estas cuitas estando,
como vi que esclarecía,
a mi casa sospirando
me bolví sin alegría.
I was resting
Sleeping as I used to,
I remembered, sad, crying
With the great sorrow I was feeling.
I got up very carelessly
From the bed I was sleeping in,
[So] Assailed with thoughts
That I couldn't fend for myself.
My distress was so strong
That I did not know myself;
Death was with me
To keep me company
What bothered me most
Was not because I was dying
But it was because I was stopping
To serve the one I served.
I served a lady
Whom I loved more than myself,
And she was the cause
Of my illness without improvement
After midnight,
When it was close to daybreak,
I get out of my dwelling
To see if I would rest
I headed to the dwelling
Of the one I loved most,
Because of whom I sadly mourned,
But she wasn't not appearing.
Walking all confused
With/from the anguishes that I had,
I saw caution come to me
Crying out, and I said:
"If you sleep, pretty lady,
Remember for courtesy,
As you were the cause
Of my misfortune.
Heal my great sadness,
Satisfy my tenacity,
Because if happiness is lacking,
You would totally lose me."
And with my teary eyes
I was making a sad moan,
And sorrowful sighs,
And nobody was appearing.
Being in these troubles,
As I saw that it was dawning,
To my house, sighing,
I returned without joy.
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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 08 Aug 22 - 02:22 PM

RE GILARDIN (Piedmontese)

Re Gilardin, lü 'l va a la guera
Lü el va a la guera a tirar di spada (x2)

O quand 'l'è stai mità la strada
Re Gilardin 'l'è restai ferito (x2)

Re Gilardin ritorna indietro
Dalla sua mamma vò 'ndà a morire (x2)

O tun tun tun, pica a la porta
O mamma mia che mi son morto (x2)

O pica pian caro 'l mio figlio
Che la to dona 'l g'à 'n picul fante (x2)

O madona*, la mia madona
cosa vol dire ch’i sonan tanto? (x2)

O nuretta, la mia nuretta
I g’fan ‘legria al tuo fante (x2)

O madona la mia madona
Cosa vol dire ch'i cantan tanto? (x2)

O nuretta, la mia nuretta
I g'fan 'legria ai soldati (x2)

O madona , la mia madona
Disem che moda ho da vestirmi (x2)

Vestiti di rosso, vestiti di nero
Che le brunette stanno più bene (x2)

O quand l'è stai 'nt l'üs de la chiesa
D'un cirighello si l'à incontrato
Bundì bungiur an vui vedovella

O no no no che non son vedovella
g'l fante in cüna e 'l marito in guera (x2)

O si si si che vui sei vedovella
Vostro marì l'è tri dì che 'l fa terra (x2)

O tera o tera apriti 'n quatro
Volio vedere il mio cuor reale (x2)

La tua boca la sa di rose
'nvece la mia la sa di terra. (x2)
KING GILARDIN

King Gilardin goes to war,
He goes to war wielding his sword. (x2)

When he was in the middle in the street,
King Gilardin was wounded. (x2)

King Gilardin goes back home,
At his mother’s house he wants to die. (x2)

Knock, knock, he knocks at the door.
"O Mother, I am dying (lit. "I'm dead")." (x2)

"Don’t thump so hard, my dear son,
For your wife has just given birth to a baby boy." (x2)

"Mother-in-law, my mother-in-law,
What does so much playing music mean?" (x2)

"Oh, little daughter-in-law, my little daughter-in-law,
They're celebrating/entertaining your baby." (x2)

"Mother-in-law, my mother-in-law,
What does so much singing mean?" (x2)

"Oh, little daughter-in-law, my little daughter-in-law,
They're entertaining the soldiers." (x2)

"Mother-in-law, my mother-in-law,
Tell me how I must dress." (x2)

"Dress in red or dress in black,
It fits brunettes much better." (x2)

When she came to the church door,
She encountered an altar boy:
"Good day, good day, young widow."

"Oh, no, no, no, I'm not a young widow,
I’ve my child in its cradle and my husband at war." (x2)

"Oh, yes, yes, yes, indeed you are a young widow,
Your husband was buried three days ago." (x2)

"Oh earth, oh, earth, open up in four corners!
I want to see the king of my heart**.” (x2)

"Your mouth has a taste of rose,
Whereas mine has a taste of earth." (x2)
*"Madona", lit. "milady" was the way of addressing one's mother-in-law in Piedmont. She was in charge of holding the economic, relational and decision-making reins of the newlyweds so was addressed as "Mother milady"
**Lit. "my royal heart" so is it "the king of my heart" or "my beloved king"?

You'll find slightly different versions on this Mudcat thread

Sheet music

A long article on Terre celtiche about the song and its different versions in several languages. Many interesting links.

Recording by La Ciapa Rusa.
Recording by Tendachënt


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 01 Aug 22 - 02:20 PM

LE GALANT INDISCRET (French)

De bon matin j' me suis levé,
Au chant de l'alouette ;
Dans mon chemin rencontre
Un garçon allemand
Qui allait voir sa blonde,
À la rigueur du temps.

— Où t'en vas-tu ? D'où reviens-tu ?
Voilà minuit qui sonne.
— Je vas voir ma maîtresse,
Là-bas, dans sa maison,
D'entrer dans sa chambrette
J'ai bien la permission.

— Ouvrez, ouvrez la porte,
Marguerit' ma mignonne,
Je suis nu, je grelotte,
En danger de geler ;
Belle, ouvrez-moi la porte
Et laissez-moi rentrer.

— Gèlerais-tu, mour-e-rais-tu,
Je n'ouvre pas ma porte.
En passant par la ville,
Galant, tu t'es vanté
Que j'étais une fille
Faite à tes volontés.

- Que me donnerez-vous belle
Pour me faire tant de peine
- Je te donnerai la mer
Pour aller t'y noyer
Ton père aussi ta mère
Pourront te regretter.

O Dieu de Dieu ! que j'ai d' malheur !
Combien je suis à plaindre !
J'ai perdu ma maîtresse
Pour avoir trop causé ;
Jamais homme ni femme
N' sauront plus mes secrets.
THE INDISCRET SUITOR

Early in the morning I got up,
At the song of the lark;
On my way I met
A German boy
Who was going to see his girlfriend
In the rigor of the weather.

"Where are you going? Where are you coming from?
The clock is striking midnight."
"I'm going to see my mistress,
Over there, in her house.
To enter her bedroom
I do have permission."

"Open, open the door,
Marguerite, my darling;
I'm naked, I'm shivering,
In danger of freezing;
Sweetheart, open the door for me
And let me in."

"Would you freeze, would you die,
I don't open my door.
Passing through the city,
Sweetheart, you boasted
That I was a girl
Who does as you wish."

"What will you give me, beautiful,
To hurt me so much?"
"I will give you the sea
To go and drown in it
Your father also your mother
May regret you."

O my God! how unfortunate I am!
How much I am to be pitied!
I lost my mistress
For talking too much;
Never man or woman
Will know my secrets any longer.
Recording by Malicorne
Sheet music
Several versions collected from the Nivernais region in Chants et chansons populaires by Achille Millien (1906)


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 25 Jul 22 - 02:26 PM

Farm workers used to be hired either on All Saints' Day (Nov. 1st), or on St Michael's Day (Sept. 29th) or on Saint John's Day (June 24th) depending on the area and the type of work.
MIA, TOTSANTS S'APRÒCHA (Occitan)

Mia, Totsants s'apròcha, la bèla, la le,
I a pas res que l'empacha, la bèla, le la.

Nos cal cambiar de mèstre, la bèla, la le,
Nos cal cambiar de bòria, la bèla, le la.

Regrete pas lo mèstre, la bèla, la le,
Ni mai la mestressa, la bèla, le la.

La sopa èra cauda, la bèla, la le,
Mes i aviá pas que d'aiga, la bèla, le la.

E lo jorn de la paga, la bèla, la le,
Los mèstres èran malautes, la bèla, le la.

Mia, Totsants s'apròcha, la bèla, la le,
I a pas res que l'empacha, la bèla, le la.
SWEETHEART, ALL SAINTS' DAY IS GETTING NEAR

Sweetheart, All Saints' Day is getting near, la bèla, la le,*
Nothing can stop it, la bèla, le la.

We must change master,
We must change farm.

I don't regret the master,
Neither do I the mistress.

The soup was hot
But it was only water.

And on pay day
The masters were ill.

Sweetheart, All Saints' Day is getting near,
Nothing can stop it.
*"La bèla" means "the beautiful one/the beauty" but I'm not sure it's intended to address anyone here.

Recording by Los del Sauveterre

There are more well-known versions on a different tune with more or less long descriptions of their bad living conditions (the master is brutal, stingy…, the mistress is evil, a bad cook -on purpose-, stingy…)
You can watch it sung here or listen to this recording by the late Rosina de Pèira and her daughter Martina.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 18 Jul 22 - 05:54 PM

Today Lois sang a song from 1930 that she amended. You'll understand why she did so when you read the full version of the lyrics below her own...
LE GRAND FRISÉ 1930's cabaret waltz/song...as amended for Mudcat

Refrain
Quand je danse avec le grand Frisé
Il a la façon de m'enlacer :
J'en perds la tête,
Je suis comme une bête.
Y'a pas ! je suis sa chose à lui,
Je l'ai dans le sang quoi, c'est mon chéri,
Car moi je l'aime, je l'aime mon grand Frisé.

Pour lui, j'ai du cœur comme pas une.
Être avec lui, j' suis au clair d' la lune
Moi je ne veux que m'en occuper
Le regarder à rêvasser
Car moi je l'aime, je l'aime mon grand Frisé

(Refrain)


(Chorus)
When I dance with the tall one with curly hair
He has a way of hugging me
That makes me lose my mind,
I'm like an animal/a dummy.
Nothing can be done*, I'm his very thing,
I have him under my skin**, well, he's my darling,
Because I love him, I love him, my tall one with curly hair.

For him I have a heart like no other.
To be with him… I'm in the moonlight.
I only want to take care of him,
To watch him as he's daydreaming
Because I love him, I love him, my tall one with curly hair.

(Chorus)

Here are the full lyrics of the original version.

LE GRAND FRISÉ
(©Léo Daniderff - Émile Ronn / Henry Lemonnier) 1930

Refrain
Quand j' danse avec le grand frisé
Il a un' façon d' m'enlacer
Qu' j'en perds la tête,
J' suis comme un' bête.
Y'a pas, je suis sa chose à lui,
J' l'ai dans l' sang, quoi, c'est mon chéri,
Aussi, je l'aime, je l'aim', mon grand frisé.

Y m' cogne, y m' démolit, y m' crève,
Mais, que voulez-vous, moi, j'aim' ça.
Après, je m'endors dans un rêve,
En m' p'lotonnant bien dans ses bras.
Je m' r'vois, lorsque j'étais tout' gosse
Et que m' câlinait ma maman,
Qu' j'ai tuée d' chagrin en f'sant la noce.
Aussi, tout ce qui m' reste maint'nant,
Quoi, c'est mon homme...

(Refrain)

Maintenant j'ai du cœur comme pas une
Quand il s'agit de s'occuper
Je ne vais pas au clair de la lune
Perdre mon temps à rêvasser
Y'a pas. Faut que le pognon rapplique
Pour que l'hiver quand il fait froid
J' lui paie une pelure en poils de bique
Et des godasses en peau d' chamois
Quoi, c'est mon homme

(Refrain)
Je l'aime…
Quoi, c'est mon homme !
THE TALL ONE WITH CURLY HAIR


Chorus
When I dance with the tall one with curly hair
He has a way of hugging me
That makes me lose my mind,
I'm like an animal/a dummy.
Nothing can be done*, I'm his very thing,
I have him under my skin**, well, he's my darling,
So, I love him, I love him, my tall one with curly hair.

He hits me, he knocks me down, he kills me,
But, what can you do, I like it.
Then I fall asleep in a dream,
Snuggling up well in his arms.
I see myself again, when I was just a kid
And my mom cuddled me,
[My mom] I killed of grief by my partying
So, all that remains to me now,
Well, is my man...

(Chorus)

Now I have a heart like no other
When it comes to caring
I don't go in the moonlight
To waste my time daydreaming
Nothing can be done. The moolah must turn up
So that in winter, when it's cold,
I [can] pay him a goat hair coat
And chamois leather shoes.
Well, he's my man

(Chorus)
I love him…
Well... he's my man!
*Or "There are not two ways about it/There's no getting out of it". The French "Y'a pas" is short for the very slangy "Y'a pas à chier".
**Lit. "I have him in the blood"

Recording by Damia
Recording by Lucienne Delyle
Recording by Barbara

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 18 Jul 22 - 02:02 PM

TODO TIENE QUE VER (Spanish)
© Eduardo Carrasco (1940 - ) sung by Quilapayún.

Todo tiene que ver con las palomas,
todo tiene que ver con un tranvía,
todo tiene que ver con la mirada,
con una carta que no se escribe,
un cigarrillo y una guitarra.

Todo tiene que ver con cerraduras,
todo tiene que ver con una almohada,
todo tiene que ver un perfume,
con los botones de una camisa,
con un vestido que cae al suelo.

Todo tiene que ver con una duda,
todo tiene que ver con otra historia,
todo tiene que ver con calles solas,
con los andenes, con ciertas lluvias,
con despedidas y con faroles,
con la memoria, con el olvido.(x2)
EVERYTHING HAS TO DO


Everything has to do with doves,
Everything has to do with a streetcar,
Everything has to do with glancing,
With a letter that is not written,
With a cigarette and with a guitar.

Everything has to do with locks,
Everything has to do with a pillow,
Everything has to do with a perfume,
With the buttons of a shirt,
With a dress that falls to the ground.

Everything has to do with a doubt,
Everything has to do with another story,
Everything has to do with lonely streets,
With the platforms, with certain rains,
With farewells and with lanterns,
With memory, with oblivion. (x2)
Live rendition in 1986.
Much later live rendition by members who live in Chile permanently.
Recording by Quilapayún as they were in 1987.
Live rendition by Paloma San Basilio and Quilapayún in 1992.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 14 Jul 22 - 05:43 AM

On Monday Casey sang…
LE ROI EUGÈNE - LA FLEUR DE LYS (French)
As sung by Malicorne

Un jour, le roi Eugène, en sortant de Paris, (x2)
Il vit venir quinze hommes, vive le jour,
Ses plus grands ennemis, vive la fleur de lys.

Il vit venir quinze hommes, ses plus grands ennemis. (x2)
Ah, dis-moi, roi Eugène, vive le jour,
Qu'as-tu fait dans ta vie ? Vive la fleur de lys

Ah, dis-moi, roi Eugène, qu'as-tu fait dans ta vie  ? (x2)
J'ai parcouru les villes, vive le jour,
Pour aller à Paris, vive la fleur de lys.

J'ai parcouru les villes pour aller à Paris. (x2)
C'est aujourd'hui, beau prince, vive le jour,
Que mort te faut subir, vive la fleur de lys.

C'est aujourd'hui, beau prince, que mort te faut subir. (x2)
J'en tuerai bien quatorze, vive le jour,
Avant que de mourir, vive la fleur de lys.

J'en tuerai bien quatorze avant que de mourir. (x2)
Tira sa claire épée, vive le jour,
Vaillamment se battit, vive la fleur de lys.

Tira sa claire épée vaillamment se battit. (x2)
Il en tua quatorze, vive le jour,
Sans pouvoir s'y lassir,* vive la fleur de lys.

Il en tua quatorze sans pouvoir s'y lassir, (x2)
Quand ça vint au quinzième, vive le jour,
Son épée d'or rompit, vive la fleur de lys.

Quand ça vint au quinzième, son épée d'or rompit (x2)
Oh, petit Jean, mon page, vive le jour,
Viens donc me secourir, vive la fleur de lys.

Oh, petit Jean, mon page, viens donc me secourir. (x2)
Va-t'en dire à ta reine, vive le jour,
Qu'elle n'a plus de mari, vive la fleur de lys.
KING EUGENE – THE FLEUR DE LYS
(Non-singable translation by Casey)

On a day, King Eugene, as he rode out of Paris,
Saw fifteen men a-coming, Long live the day
His greatest enemies. Long live the fleur-de-lys

Saw fifteen men a-coming, his greatest enemies. (x2)
Tell me King Eugene, Long live the day
What you’ve done in your life? Long live the fleur-de-lys

Tell me King Eugene, what you’ve done in your life? (x2)
I’ve traveled the towns all over, Long live the day
A-going to Paris Long live the fleur-de-lys

I’ve traveled the towns all over, a-going to Paris. (x2)
Today’s the day, Eugene, Long live the day
The day you’ll suffer death. Long live the fleur-de-lys

Today’s the day, Eugene, the day you’ll suffer death. (x2)
Then I’ll kill fourteen of you Long live the day
Before I die! Long live the fleur-de-lys

Then I’ll kill fourteen of you before I die! (x2)
Drew out his bright sword, Long live the day
And valiantly fought he. Long live the fleur-de-lys

Drew out his bright sword, and valiantly fought he. (x2)
Killed fourteen Long live the day
Without growing weary. Long live the fleur-de-lys

Killed fourteen without growing weary. (x2)
When it came to the fifteenthLong live the day
His gold sword snapped. Long live the fleur-de-lys

When it came to the fifteenth, his gold sword snapped. (x2)
Oh little Jean my page, Long live the day
Come and lend your aid! Long live the fleur-de-lys

Oh little Jean my page, come and lend your aid! (x2)
Go and tell your Queen Long live the day
That her husband is no more. Long live the fleur-de-lys
*The actual verb is "lasser" but in old songs the infinitive or participle ending was sometimes changed for rhyming purposes.

Recording by Malicorne (1973)

This is an article with the history of this song in France, and identifying a descendent of this song that has evolved into a Canadian canoe-paddling song. (If you can access it as a member)
You can find a version with score and lyrics collected by Marius Barbeau on the Canadian Museum of History.
You can find another version on this copy of the texts (so no scores) included in "Folk Songs of Old Quebec" by Marius Barbeau.
You can listen to a slightly different version sung by Jacques Labrecque.
In this pdf copy of "Le Fureteur Breton, 1911, (in French) you'll find "La chanson de Bois-Gilles" that has some verses in common with the King/Prince Eugene song.


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