Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 05 Jun 23 - 02:33 PM

LO ROSSINHÒU MESSATGIER (Provençal) Pèr un dimenge de matin Ai pres lei claus de mon jardin Pèr n'en culhir la violeta La blanca flor dau jaussemin Pèr ne'n fair' un boque' a ma mia Avans de sortir dau jardin Quand lo boquet es estat fach Sabiáu pas pèr cu lo mandar L'i a 'gut lo rossinhòu sauvatge Lo messatgier deis amorós: "Pèr ieu, vòs-tu fair' un messatge A ma mia, la Blancaflor?" Lo rossinhòu a pas mancat Dau jòli* bòsc s'es envolat Sus la fenèstra de la bèla Lo rossinhòu a fach tres torns: "Revelhatz-vos la graciosa, Vos aduse un boquet de flors!" Que Dieu benisse* lei saluts E mai aqueu que leis adutz Ne'n ai bèn d'autres calenhaires Ne'n ai bèn d'autreis amorós Ne'n ai bèn d'autres calenhaires Mai pèr aqueu, pòrta la flor. "Bèla, quand siáu en quauqua part Parle de vos, siáu jamai las, Parle que de vòstrei "louangis*" Ambé de vòstre bòn renom Que siatz polida coma un "angi*", Semblatz la filha d'un baron!"

THE MESSENGER NIGHTINGALE On a Sunday morning I took the keys of my garden To pick up violets, White jasmine flowers To make a bouquet for my sweetheart Before leaving my garden. When the bouquet was made I didn't know who to send it by, There was the wild nightingale, The lovers' messenger: "Will you take a message for me To my sweetheart, Blancaflor (Whiteflower) The nightingale didn't fail, He flew from the pretty wood To the beauty's window The nightingale turned three times, "Wake up, you gracious one, I bring you a bouquet of flowers!" "May God bless the greetings And also the one who brings them. I do have other suitors, I do have other lovers I do have other suitors But for this one, bring the flower." "Beauty, when I am somewhere, I talk about you, I'm never tired, I talk only about your praises, And about your good renown, About your being pretty like an angel, You look like a baron's daughter!"

*The words with an asterisk are provençalized French words


Collected by Damase Arbaud in "Chants populaires de la Provence", published in 1864 (or here.
Also published in "Cantam provencau, cançonier dau calen" in 1977 and 1994 by Luciana Porte-Marrou

Incomplete recording by Trobaritz d'Oc

Slightly different version by Renat Sette & Pierre Bonnet

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

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

МОСКВА МАЙСКАЯ Утро красит нежным светом Стены древнего Кремля, Просыпается с рассветом Вся Советская земля. Холодок бежит за ворот, Шум на улицах сильней. С добрым утром, милый город, Сердце Родины моей! Припев: Кипучая, Могучая, Никем непобедимая Страна моя, Москва моя, — Ты самая любимая! Солнце майское, светлее С неба синего свети, Чтоб до выси мавзолея Нашу радость донести. Чтобы ярче заблистали Наши лозунги побед, Чтобы руку поднял Сталин, Посылая нам привет. (Припев). Разгорелся день веселый, Морем улицы шумят, Из открытых окон школы Слышны крики октябрят. Май течет рекой нарядной По широкой мостовой, Льется песней необъятной Над красавицей Москвой. (Припев). День уходит, и прохлада Освежает и бодрит. Отдохнувши от парада, Город праздничный гудит. Вот когда встречаться парам! Говорлива и жива, По садам и по бульварам Растекается Москва. (Припев). Стала ночь на день похожей, Море света над толпой. Эй, товарищ! Эй, прохожий, С нами вместе песню пой! Погляди! Поет и пляшет Вся Советская страна, Нет тебя милей и краше, Наша красная весна! (Припев). Голубой рассвет глядится В тишину Москвы-реки, И поют ночные птицы — Паровозные гудки. Бьют часы Кремлевской башни, Гаснут звезды, тает тень... До свиданья, день вчерашний, Здравствуй, новый, светлый день! (Припев).

MOSCOW MAY The morning paints the walls Of the ancient Kremlin with soft light And the whole Soviet land Wakes up with the sun A cool breeze runs through the gate, The noise increases in the streets Good morning my dear city The heart of my homeland. Refrain: Boiling, Powerful, Never defeated My homeland, My Moscow, You are the most beloved. May the sun of May Be more powerful from the blue sky To bring our happiness Back to the mausoleum. So that the banners of our victories Shine more brightly, For Stalin to raise his hand And greet us (Refrain) The joyful day dawns, The streets rustle like the sea And the cries of "oktiabriats"* can be heard Through open school windows May flows like a festive river On the wide pavement And it flows like an endless song Above beautiful Moscow. (Refrain) The day is fading And the coolness is coming. Having rested from the parade, The city is humming And now is the time for couples to meet Talkative and lively. Moscow spreads In the gardens and on the boulevards (Refrain) The night has become like the day The sea of light over the crowd "Hey comrade, hey passers-by Sing the song with us." Look at the whole Soviet country Singing and dancing. There is nothing sweeter and more beautiful Than our beautiful spring (Refrain) The blue dawn looks into The calm of the Moskva river And the night birds sing: They are the sirens of the locomotives The Kremlin tower clock strikes The stars disappear The shadows fade away Goodbye yesterday, hello to a bright new day. (Refrain)

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

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


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

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

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

C’ÉTAIT UN PETIT MATELOT (French) C’était un petit matelot Sur les flots de la mer indienne C’était un petit matelot Oh, oh, petit matelot. Voguait de Brest jusqu’à Frisco Sur les flots de la mer indienne Un jour le temps se fit très gros Oh, oh, petit matelot. Serr’ les voiles tout le monde en haut Sur les flots de la mer indienne Tomb' de plus de vingt mètr's de haut Oh, oh, petit matelot. Et l’on mit la chaloupe à l’eau Sur les flots de la mer indienne Pour vite le tirer des flots Oh, oh, petit matelot Mais on n' sauva que son chapeau Sur les flots de la mer indienne Sa vieille pipe et ses sabots, Oh, oh, petit matelot. Peut-être bien qu' le p’tit matelot Sur les flots de la mer indienne Est dans le ventr' d’un cachalot Oh, oh, petit matelot.

THERE WAS A LITTLE SAILOR There was a little sailor On the Indian sea waves, There was a little sailor, Oh, oh, little sailor. He sailed from Brest to Frisco On the Indian sea waves, One day the weather went very rough Oh, oh, little sailor. Furl the sails, everybody high up On the Indian sea waves, Falls from more than twenty meters high Oh, oh, little sailor. And they launched the lifeboat On the Indian sea waves, To quickly pull him out of the sea Oh, oh, little sailor. But they only rescued his hat On the Indian sea waves, His old pipe and his clogs, Oh, oh, little sailor. Maybe the little sailor On the Indian sea waves, Is inside a toothed whale belly Oh, oh, little sailor.

Live rendition by Les Couillons de Tomé

Rendition by Jean-Melchior Delpias


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

On Monday, Steve sang

C'EST LE MAI, JOLI MAI (French) C'est le mai, joli mai C'est le joli mois de mai C'est le mai, joli mai C'est le joli mois de mai Salut, gens de cette assemblée Nous sommes venus vous visiter Longtemps nous a fallu marcher Et nous sommes bien fatigués Pour chanter... C'est le mai, joli mai C'est le joli mois de mai C'est le mai, joli mai C'est le joli mois de mai Merci, gens de cette assemblée D'être venus nous écouter Et d'avoir bien voulu veiller Jusqu'à la fin de la soirée Pour chanter... C'est le mai, joli mai C'est le joli mois de mai C'est le mai, joli mai C'est le joli mois de mai Salut, gens de cette assemblée Voici l'heure de nous séparer Mais en rentrant dans vos maisons Vous emportez cette chanson Pour chanter... C'est le mai, joli mai C'est le joli mois de mai C'est le mai, joli mai C'est le joli mois de mai Mais qu'avez-vous à tant pleurer À gémir et à soupirer Sans mentir nous vous promettons De revenir à la saison Pour chanter... C'est le mai, joli mai C'est le joli mois de mai C'est le mai, joli mai C'est le joli mois de mai

IT'S MAY, PRETTY MAY It's May, pretty May It's the pretty month of May It's May, pretty May It's the pretty month of May Hi, people of this gathering We've come to visit you A long time we had to walk And we are very tired To sing... It's May, pretty May It's the pretty month of May It's May, pretty May It's the pretty month of May Thank you, people of this gathering For coming to listen to us And to have kindly stayed awake Until the end of the evening To sing... It's May, pretty May It's the pretty month of May It's May, pretty May It's the pretty month of May Hi, people of this gathering It's time to part ways But when going back to your homes You take away this song To sing... It's May, pretty May It's the pretty month of May It's May, pretty May It's the pretty month of May But what's the matter for your crying so much, Moaning and sighing Without lying we promise you To come back on the [same] season To sing... It's May, pretty May It's the pretty month of May It's May, pretty May It's the pretty month of May

Live recording by Malicorne
Live rendition by Malicorne on 2012-07-24 in Quimper (around 6:30)

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

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

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

L'AUCÈU EN GABIÒLA (Occitan) Aicí ne'n ven tres aucelets (x2) Sus un brancon d'oliva, vòla. (x2) N'i a dos que cantan lo plaser (x2) E l'autre lei saluda, vòla. (x2) Aqueu que lei saluda tots (x2) Lo fau portar a ma mia, vòla. (x2) Ah! Tenètz, mia, un aucelet (x2) Metètz-lo en gabiòla, vòla (x2) Fasètz-l'i lo restar sèt ans (x2) Sensa manjar ni beure, vòla (x2). Quand lei sèt ans ne'n son passats (x2) Lo rossinhòu s'envòla, vòla. (x2) La dama li corre a l'après (x2) Coma una frema fòla, vòla. (x2) Arrèsta, arrèsta, rossinhòu, (x2) Retòrna en gabiòla, vòla (x2) Te farai manjar de pan blanc (x2) Te darai de mon beure, vòla. (x2) N'en vòle ges de ton pan blanc (x2) E ni mai de ton beure, vòla. (x2) Ieu manjarai d'erba de camp (x2) De la pas caucigada, vòla (x2) Ieu beurai d'aiga dau rocàs (x2) De la pas trebolada, vòla (x2) Ieu cantarai a mon plaser (x2) Coma mei camaradas, vòla (x2) Ame mai estre aucèu de camp, (x2) Qu'un aucèu de gabiòla, vòla. (x2)

THE BIRD IN A CAGE Here come three little birds (x2) On a little branch of an olive tree, fly (x2) There are two singing the pleasure (x2) And the other one greets them, fly (x2) The one that greets them all, (x2) I have it brought to my sweetheart, fly (x2) Ah, here you go, sweetheart, a little bird, (x2) Put it in a cage, fly (x2) Have it stay there for seven years, (x2) Without food nor drink, fly (x2) When the seven years are over, (x2) The nightingale flies away, fly (x2) The lady runs after it, (x2) Like a crazy woman, fly (x2) Stop, stop, nightingale, (x2) Go back into the cage, fly (x2) I'll give you white bread to eat (x2), I'll give you some of my drink, fly (x2) I don't want any of your white bread (x2) Nor of your drink, fly (x2) I'll eat field grass (x2) The one that is not trodden, fly (x2) I'll drink rock water (x2) The one that is not clouded, fly (x2) I'll sing at my leasure (x2) Like my fellows, fly (x2) I like better be a field bird (x2) Than a bird in a cage, fly (x2)

Recording by MacCann duet concertina G. Carrère


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

An Mhaighdean Mhara (Irish language, the sea maiden)

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

VAQUÍ LO POLIT MES DE MAI (Occitan -Provençal) Vaquí lo polit mes de mai Que tot galant planta son mai Ne'n plantarai un a ma mía       Serà mai aut que sa teulissa Cu li metrem per lo gardar Un sordat de cada costat Cu li metrem per sentinèla Serà lo galant de la bèla Quand ven l’ora de mejanueit que lo galant s’endurmiguèt S’endormiguèt, se somelhava E lo gran mai se desplantava. Aquò me facharià per tu Si ta mía l'aviá vòugut Ta mía n'aima quauqueis autres Se trufarà ben de nosautres Ièu sabi ben çò que farai Me'n anarai, m'embarcarai M'embarcarai drech a Marsilha Pensarai plus d'aquesta filha Quand de Marsilha revendrai Davant sa pòrta passarai Demandarai a sa vesina Coma se pòrta Catarina Catarina se pòrta ben S'es maridada i a ben lòngtemps Amb' un monsur de la campanha Que li fai ben faire la dama N'en pòrta lo capèu bordat Ambé l'espasa a son costat La noirirà mai sens ren faire Que non pas tu, marrit cantaire

HERE COMES THE BEAUTIFUL MONTH OF MAY Here comes the beautiful month of May When every gallant/suitor plants his May tree) I'll plant one to my sweetheart It will be higher than her roof. Who will we put to keep it? One soldier on each side Who will we put as a sentry? It will be the girl's gallant. When midnight came The gallant/suitor fell asleep, He fell asleep, he was dozing, And the great May was been pulled out. It would make me sorry for you If your sweetheart had accepted it. Your sweetheart loves a few more ones. She will laugh at us! I know well what I will do I will leave, I will embark I will embark straight for Marseilles I won't think about that girl anymore When from Marseilles I return I will pass in front of her door I will ask her neighbor, "How is Catherine doing?" "Catherine is doing well She got married a long time ago With a well-respected man from the countryside Who turns her into a lady He wears the edged hat* And a sword on his side He'll feed her more without doing anything Than you, bad singer."

* the edged hat meant he was a policeman (gendarme)

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

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


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

LA FILLE SOLDAT (French) La jeune demoiselle a perdu son amant N'est-ce pas bien dommage dès l'âge de quinze ans ? Elle s'en va l'attendre à l'ombre de ces bois Mais elle a beau attendre son amant ne vient pas Rossignolet sauvage rossignolet charmant Apprends-moi des nouvelles de mon très cher amant Oh ton amant la belle il est bien loin d'ici À vingt-cinq jours de marche y a bien de quoi marcher Habille-toi la belle habille-toi en guerrier Tu marcheras sans doute trente-six jours entiers Quand la belle fut en Prusse aperçoit son amant Qui faisait l'exercice au beau milieu du rang Si j'avais su, la belle, que tu m'aurais connu, J'aurais passé en Flandre, jamais tu n' m'aurais vu. Que je suis malheureuse d'avoir fait tant de pas Pour un amant volage qui n' me regarde pas ! Ah dis-moi donc la belle qui t'a envoyée ici ? Apprends-moi des nouvelles des garçons du pays Les garçons du village ils sont tous mariés Il y a que toi volage qui m'aies abandonnée. Te chagrine pas la belle nous nous marierons Dans un pays de France ou dans le Piémont, Te chagrine pas la belle nous nous marierons Dans un pays de France ou dans le Piémont.

THE MAIDEN SOLDIER The young lady has lost her sweetheart Isn't that a pity at the age of fifteen? She goes to wait for him in the shade of these woods But no matter how much she waits, her sweetheart doesn't come "Wild nightingale, charming nightingale Tell me news about my dearest sweetheart " "Oh your sweetheart, beauty, he is far away from here At a twenty-five day walk, it's a long walk Dress up, beauty, dress up as a warrior You will probably walk thirty-six whole days" When the beauty was in Prussia, she sees her sweetheart Who was doing the exercise in the middle of the row. "If I had known, beauty, that you would have known me, I would have gone to Flanders, you'd never have seen me." "How unhappy I am to have walked so many steps For a flighty sweetheart who doesn't care for me!" "Ah, tell me, beauty, who sent you here? Bring me news from the boys from home." The boys from home are all married There's only you, fickle one, who abandoned me." "Don't worry, beauty, we'll get married In a region of France or in Piedmont Don't worry, beauty, we'll get married In a region of France or in Piedmont."

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

Recording by Malicorne

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

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

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

GESHER TZAR ME’OD (Hebrew -transliterated) Kol ha-o-lam ku-lo, gesher tzar me’od, gesher tzar me’od, gesher tzar me’od. Kol ha-o-lam ku-lo, gesher tzar me’od, gesher tzar me’od. V’ha-i-kar, v’ha-i-kar, lo l’fached, lo l'fached klal V’ha-i-kar V’ha-i-kar, lo l'fached klal V’ha-i-kar V’ha-i-kar, lo l’fached, lo l'fached klal V’ha-i-kar V’ha-i-kar, lo l’fached klal Kol ha-o-lam ku-lo, gesher tzar me’od, gesher tzar me’od, gesher tzar me’od. Kol ha-o-lam ku-lo, gesher tzar me’od, gesher tzar me’od.

A VERY NARROW BRIDGE The whole entire world is a very narrow bridge, A very narrow bridge, a very narrow bridge. All of the world is a very narrow bridge, A very narrow bridge. And above all above all, is not to fear, not to fear at all; And above all above all, is not to fear at all. And above all above all, is not to fear, not to fear at all; And above all above all, is not to fear at all. The whole entire world is a very narrow bridge, A very narrow bridge, a very narrow bridge. All of the world is a very narrow bridge, A very narrow bridge.

Kol ha-o-lam ku-lo gesher tzar me’od
all/whole world       bridge   narrow
V'ha-i-kar lo l'fached klal
   not to fear   at all

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

Hebrew lyrics:

כל העולם כלו

כל העולם כלו גשר צר מאד
והעקר לא לפחד כלל

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

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

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

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

DONZELA QUE VAI À GUERRA (Portuguese) As guerras se apregoaram À porta de Dom Varão "Ai de mim que já estou velho -Ai tão linda- Não as posso vencer, não" “De sete filhas que tenho -Ai tão linda- Não ser um filho varão*" Respondeu logo a mais nova Com toda a discrição: "Venham lá armas e cavalos -Ai tão linda- Quero ser seu filho varão" "Filha tens os olhos muito lindos Por eles te conhecerão" "Quando olharem para mim -Ai tão linda- Eu olharei para o chão Venham lá armas e cavalos -Ai tão linda- Quero ser seu filho varão” "Filha tens os peitos muito altos Por eles te conhecerão" "Venham fardas bem apertadas -Ai tão linda- Que eles logo abaixarão Venham lá armas e cavalos -Ai tão linda- Quero ser seu filho varão" "Oh meu pai, Oh minha madre Que me finou de paixão Que os olhos de Dom Varão -Ai tão linda- São de mulher, de homem não!" "Sete anos eu fui à guerra Sete anos eu fui varão" "Nunca me pôde enganar -Ai tão linda- O filho de Dom João"

MAIDEN WHO GOES TO WAR The wars broke out At the door of Dom Varão "Woe is me, I am old -Oh so beautiful- I can't defeat them, no" "Of the seven daughters I have Oh so beautiful None is an eldest son" The youngest replied soon Full of modesty: "Come guns and horses -Oh so beautiful- I want to be your eldest son" "Daughter you have very beautiful eyes By them they will know you" "When they look at me -Oh so beautiful- I will look down to the floor, Come on guns and horses -Oh so beautiful- I want to be your eldest son" "Daughter, you have very high breasts By them they will know you" "Come in very tight uniforms -Oh so beautiful- That they will soon go down Come on guns and horses -Oh so beautiful- I want to be your eldest son" "Oh my father, oh my mother I'm dying of passion For the eyes of Dom Varão -Oh so beautiful- Are a woman's, not a man's!" "Seven years I went to war Seven years I was an eldest son." "He could never deceive/trick me, -Oh so beautiful- Dom João's son."

Recording by José Barros

Here is a long version re-written by Almeida Garrett (1799-1854) from older documents:

A DONZELA QUE VAI À GUERRA (Almeida Garrett) Já se apregoam as guerras Entre a França e o Aragão: — Ai de mim que já sou velho, Não nas posso brigar, não! De sete filhas que tenho, Sem nenhuma ser varão, Responde a filha mais velha Com toda a resolução: — Venham armas e cavalo Que eu serei filho varão. —Tendes los olhos mui vivos. Filha, conhecer-vos-ão. — Quando passar pela armada Porei os olhos no chão. —Tendes los ombros mui altos Filha, conhecer-vos-ão. — Venha gibão apertado, Os peitos encolherão. —Tend’-las mãos pequeninas Filha, conhecer-vos-ão. — Venham já guantes de ferro E compridas ficarão. — Tend’ los pés delicados, Filha, conhecer-vos-ão. — Calçarei botas e esporas, Nunca delas sairão. — Senhor pai, senhora mãe, Grande dor de coração, Que os olhos do conde Daros São de mulher, de homem não. — Convidai-o vós meu filho Para ir convosco ao pomar, Que, se ele mulher for, À maçã se há-de pegar. A donzela, por discreta, O camoês foi apanhar. — Oh que belos camoezes Para um homem cheirar! Lindas maçãs para damas Quem lhas pudera levar. — Senhor pai, senhora mãe, Grande dor de coração, Que os olhos do conde Daros São de mulher, de homem não. Convidai-o vós, meu filho, Para convosco jantar, Que, se ele mulher for, No estrado se há-de encruzar. A donzela por discreta, Nos altos se foi sentar. — Senhor pai, senhora mãe, Grande dor de coração, Que os olhos do conde Daros São de mulher, de homem não. — Convidai-o vós, meu filho, Para convosco feirar, Que, se ele mulher for, Às fitas se há-de pegar. A donzela, por discreta, Uma adaga foi comprar. — Oh que bela adaga esta Para com homens brigar! Lindas fitas para damas: Quem lhas pudera levar! — Senhor pai, senhora mãe, Grande dor de coração, Que os olhos do conde Daros São de mulher, de homem não. — Convidai-o vós, meu filho, Para convosco nadar, Que, se ele mulher for, O convite há-de escusar. A donzela, por discreta Começou-se a desnudar… Traz-lhe o seu pajem[4] uma carta, Pôs-se a ler e pôs-se a chorar. — Novas me chegam agora, Novas de grande pesar: De que minha mãe é morta, Meu pai se está a finar. Os sinos da minha terra Os estou a ouvir dobrar E duas irmãs que eu tenho Daqui as oiço chorar. Monta, monta, cavaleiro, Se me quer acompanhar. Chegavam a uns altos paços, Foram-se logo apear. — Senhor pai, trago-lhe um genro, Se o quiser aceitar; Foi meu capitão na guerra, De amores me quis contar… Se ainda me quer agora Com meu pai há-de falar. Sete anos andei na guerra E fiz de filho varão. Ninguém me conheceu nunca Senão o meu capitão; Conheceu-me pelos olhos, Que por outra coisa não.

THE MAIDEN WHO GOES TO WAR The wars are already proclaimed Between France and Aragon: "Woe is me, I'm already old, I can’t fight, no! Of the seven daughters I have, Without any being the eldest son." The eldest daughter answers With full resolution: "Let weapons and a horse come For I will be a male child (the eldest son)." "You have very lively eyes. Daughter, they will know you." "When passing through the armada I’ll lower my eyes." "You have very high shoulders Daughter, they will know you." "Let a tight doublet come, The breasts will shrink." "You have little hands Daughter, they will know you." "Let iron gauntlets come now And they will look long." "You have delicate feet, Daughter, they will know you." "I’ll wear boots and spurs, They will never come out." "Father, Mother, Great heartache [I have], For the eyes of Count Daros Are a woman’s, not a man’s." "Invite him, my son, To go with you to the orchard, For if he is a woman, He must take the apple." The maiden, being discreet, Went to pick the rough-skinned apple. "Oh! what beautiful rough-skinned apples For a man to smell! Beautiful apples for ladies Who could pick them." "Father, Mother, Great heartache [I have], For the eyes of Count Daros Are a woman’s, not a man’s." "Invite him, my son, To dine with you, That if he is a woman, He’ll sit down on the platform." The maiden, being discreet, Went to sit on the highs. "Father, Mother, Great heartache [I have], For the eyes of Count Daros Are a woman’s, not a man’s." "Invite him, my son, To the fair with you, For if he is a woman, He’ll pick up ribbons." The maiden, being discreet, A dagger went to buy. "Oh, what a fine dagger this is To fight with men! Beautiful ribbons for ladies: Who could take them!" "Father, Mother, Great heartache [I have], For the eyes of Count Daros Are a woman’s, not a man’s." "Invite him, my son, To swim with you, For if he is a woman, He’ll decline the invitation." The maiden, being discreet Started to undress… Her page brings her a letter, She began to read and began to cry. "News reaches me now, News of great regret: My mother is dead, My father is dying. The bells of my land I’m hearing them toll. And two sisters I have I hear them cry from here. Mount, mount, rider, If you want to follow me." They reached some high places, They soon dismounted. "Father, I bring you a son-in-law, If you want to accept him; He was my captain in the war, He wanted to tell me about love… If he still wants me now With my father he will speak." Seven years I went to war And I played the male child. Nobody ever knew me But my captain; He knew me by/from/because of my eyes, But for something else, he didn’t."

Some background and analysis in Portuguese here

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

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

MAH NISHTANAH (Transliteration) Mah nishtanah, ha-laylah ha-zeh, mi-kol ha-leylot She-b'khol ha-leylot 'anu 'okhlin chameytz u-matzah, ha-laylah ha-zeh, kulo matzah She-b'khol ha-leylot 'anu 'okhlin sh'ar y'rakot, ha-laylah ha-zeh, maror She-b'khol ha-leylot 'eyn 'anu matbilin 'afilu pa`am 'achat, ha-laylah ha-zeh, shtey p`amim She-b'khol ha-leylot 'anu 'okhlin ushotin beyn yoshvin u-veyn m'subin, ha-laylah ha-zeh, kulanu m'subin

Translation Why is this night different from all the other nights?; That on all other nights we eat both chametz and matzah, on this night, we eat only matzah? That on all other nights we eat many vegetables, on this night, maror? That on all other nights we do not dip vegetables even once, on this night, we dip twice? That on all other nights some eat and drink sitting with others reclining, but on this night, we are all reclining?

HEBREW

מַה נִּשְׁתַּנָּה

מַה נִּשְׁתַּנָּה, הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה
מִכָּל הַלֵּילוֹת

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָנוּ אוֹכְלִין
חָמֵץ וּמַצָּה
הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה, כֻּלּוֹ מַצָּה

שֶׁבְּכָל הַלֵּילוֹת אָנוּ אוֹכְלִין
שְׁאָר יְרָקוֹת
הַלַּיְלָה הַזֶּה, מָרוֹר

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

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

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

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

LA RAGAZZA GUERRIERA (Italian dialect) Mamma la mia mamma scolà m'hai da 'nsegnà' un soldatò di guera m'ha fatto innamorà’ Fijo mio bel fijo portètela a ffa' 'l pà' se ll'è una vera fija si llaverà lle mà' Soldato mio bel soldato lavatevi lle mà' Un soldatò di guera non si llavà lle mà' solo che qualche volta co' 'l sangue dei cristià' Fijo mio bel fijo cosà ci hai ricavà' O mamma la mia mamma scola m'hai da 'nsegnà' Fijo mio bel fijo portètela al giardì' se ll'è una vera fija lo cojerà un fiorì' Soldato mio bel soldato, coglietelo un fiorì Un soldatò di guera non po' portare 'l fiorì solo che qualche volta un bon bicchiere de vì' Mamma la mia mamma scolà m'hai da 'nsegnà' all'ombra di una fija m'ha fatto innamorà' Fijo mio bel fijo portètela al gioiè' se ll'è una vera fija lo scejerà un anè' Soldato mio bel soldato scejetevi un anè' Un soldato di guera non po' portare 'n'anè' solo che qualche volta la spada e 'n bon bicchiè' Fijo mio bel fijo cosa ci hai ricavà' O mamma la mia mamma scola m'hai da 'nsegnà' Fiji mio bel fijo portètela a ddormì' se ll'è una vera fija non ce vorrà vvenì' Soldato mio bel soldato andamocene a ddormì' Ma mi è 'rrivata 'na lettera che me conviene a ppartì'

THE WARRIOR MAIDEN "Mom, my mom, tell me how to do it A soldier in the war made me fall in love" "Son, my handsome son, take her to make bread If she's a real girl she will wash her hands" "Soldier my handsome soldier, wash your hands" "A soldier in war does not wash his hands Only sometimes with the blood of Christians" "Son, my handsome son, what did you get?" "O Mom, my mom, explain to me how to do it" "Son, my handsome son, take her to the garden If she's a real girl she will pick flowers" "Soldier, my handsome soldier, pick a flower" "A soldier in war cannot carry a flower Just sometimes a good glass of wine" "Mom, my mom, tell me how to do it" The shadow of a girl made me fall in love" "Son, my handsome son, take her to the jeweler If she's a real girl she will choose a ring" "Soldier, my handsome soldier, choose a ring" "A soldier in war cannot wear rings Only sometimes the sword and a good glass" "Son, my handsome son, what did you get?" "Mom, my mom, tell me how to do it" "Son, my handsome son, take her to sleep If she's a real girl she won't want to come" "Soldier, my handsome soldier, let's go to sleep" "Well, I got a letter telling me to leave"

Recording by La Macina

Recording by Gastone Pietrucci & La Macina

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

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

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

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

LA DONCELLA GUERRERA (Spanish) En Sevilla a un sevillano siete hijas le dio Dios (x2) todas siete fueron hembras todas siete fueron hembras y ninguno fue varón. A la más chiquita de ellas le llevó la inclinación (x2) de ir a servir a la guerra de ir a servir a la guerra vestidita de varón. Al montar en el caballo, la espada se le cayó (x2) por decir ¡maldita sea¡ por decir ¡maldita sea¡, dijo -maldita sea yo. El rey que lo estaba oyendo, de amores se cautivó: (x2) -Madre, los ojos de Marcos, -Madre, los ojos de Marcos, son de hembra, no de varón. -Convídala tú, hijo mío, a los ríos a nadar (x2) que si ella fuese hembra, que si ella fuese hembra, no se querrá desnudar. Toditos los caballeros se empiezan a desnudar (x2) y el caballero don Marcos y el caballero don Marcos se ha retirado a llorar. -¿Por qué llora usted don Marcos?.- ¿Por qué debo de llorar? (x2) Por un falso testimonio Por un falso testimonio que me quieren levantar. -No llores alma querida, no llores mi corazón, (x2) que eso que tú tanto sientes, que eso que tú tanto sientes, eso lo deseo yo.

THE WARRIOR MAIDEN In Sevilla, God gave seven daughters to a Sevillian (x2) All seven were female All seven were female and none was male. The youngest of them had a calling (x2) for going to serve in the war To serve in the war dressed as a man. When she mounted the horse, her sword fell down (x2) Instead of saying "Let it be cursed!" Instead of saying "Let it be cursed!", she said "Let me be cursed!". The King who was hearing fell in love: (x2) "Mother, Marcos's eyes, Mother, Marcos's eyes are a woman's, not a man's." "Invite her, son, to swim in the river (x2) As if she'd be female, As if she'd be female, she won't want to undress." All the horsemen/knights/gentlemen start to undress (x2) And the horseman/knight/gentleman don Marcos And the horseman/knight/gentleman don Marcos withdrew to weep. "Why are you crying don Marcos?" "Why need I do cry? (x2) Because of a false testimony Because of a false testimony they want to take away from me." "Don't cry, beloved soul, don't cry, my heart, (x2) For what you're so sorry about, For what you're so sorry about is what I wish.

"La doncella guerrera" by Joaquín Díaz

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

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

LE GARÇON JARDINIER (French) Traditional Où allez-vous la belle avant soleil levé ? (x2) Je m'en vais à la messe L'avez-vous entendue sonner Beau garçon jardinier Attendez-moi la belle je vous y conduirai (x2) L'a prise par sa main blanche Au jardin il l'a emmenée À l'ombre du rosier Cueillez, cueillez la belle, la fleur que vous voudrez (x2) La belle a pris la rose Et puis elle s'est mise à pleurer À l'ombre du rosier Qu'avez-vous donc la belle, qu'a-vous à tant pleurer ? (x2) Je pleure mon cœur volage Galant, que vous m'avez volé À l'ombre du rosier Pleurez donc pas la belle je vous le renderai* (x2) C'est pas une chose à rendre Galant comme de l'argent prêté Beau garçon jardinier

THE GARDENER BOY "Where are you going, beauty, before sunrise? (x2) I'm going to mass, Did you hear the bells ring (lit. "hear it ring") Handsome gardener boy?" "Wait for me, beauty, I'll take you there" (x2) He took her by her white hand In the garden he took her In the shade of the rosebush "Pick, pick, pretty, the flower you want" (x2) The girl took the rose And then she started crying In the shade of the rosebush "What's the matter with you, beauty, why are you crying so much?" (x2) "I'm crying for my fickle heart Gallant, that you stole from me In the shade of the rosebush" "Don't cry so much, beauty, I'll give it back to you" (x2) "It's not a thing to give back Gallant, like loaned money Handsome gardener boy"

*The correct form is "rendrai".

Recording by Malicorne
Live rendition by Gabriel Yacoub

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

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

RUBEN RANZO / RANZO BOYS (Swedish) (from Sang Under Segel) Hans namn var Ruben Ranzo.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! Å Ruben va' ingen sjöman.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! Han tjänt som skräddarlärling.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! Av juling fick han täring.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! Å Ranzo fick the notion         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! en dag to cross the ocean.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! Så från en Bond Street tailor         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! han shipped on board a whaler.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! En shilling blev hans hyra.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! Men åt han gjörde för fyra.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! Han slog för skepparns kärring,         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! en sur och saltad herring.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! Så ramlan ner från riggen,         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! så skorna tappa pliggen.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! På hundvakten om natten         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! han åts av svarta katten.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! Och när i brassar stramar         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! av alla kraftar jamar         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

REUBEN RANZO / RANZO BOYS (Jim's translation) His name was Ruben Ranzo.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! And Ranzo was no sailor.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! He served as a tailor's apprentice.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! From beatings he got his learning.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! And Ranzo got the notion         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! one day to cross the ocean.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! So from a Bond Street Tailor         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! He shipped on board a whaler.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! A shilling was his pay,         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! But he ate enough for four.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! He got as the ships ration         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! a sour and salted herring.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! Then [he] tumbled down from the rigging,         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! So [his] shoes hit the deck.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! On the dogwatch in the night,         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! He was eaten by the black cat.         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! And when you sweat (tighten) the braces,         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo! with full power, shout         Ranzo, boys! Ranzo!

Live rendition
Rendition by Jerzy Brzezinski

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

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

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

CECILA (Occitan) Yves Rouquette (1936-2015) / Trad. Cecila aviás vint ans en 1907 (x2) Alavetz se levava nòstre pòble de muts Per Narbona passavas, t’an tirat dessús Cecila èra a Narbona en 1907 (x2) Quand ton pòble s’acampa cossí èsser en lòc pus De Cuxac arribavas, t’an tirat dessús Es Carrièra del Pont en 1907 (x2) Que de morre tombères amb quatre companhons Caliá de sang al Tigre per matar vinhairons Un ataüt de pèiras en 1907 (x2) Los Narbonés faguèron, velhèron a l’entorn Tres jorns òmes e femnas e los enfants pichons Demandàvem de pan en 1907 (x2) Es de plomb que donèron. "Nosaus governem-nos!" Disián al cementèri los òmes en corroç E res non a cambiat dempuèi 1907 (x2) Ni pel sang de Cecila, ni pels crits de Ferroul Son d’autres que nos govèrnan de son argent totjorn Ni pel sang de Cecila en 1907 Ni pels crits de Ferroul en 1907 Los parla-plan barjacan e viram en redond Al Païs d’Occitania, los òmes onte son ?

CECILE Cecile, you were 20 in 1907 (x2) It was then that our dumb people arose You passed by in Narbonne, they shot you Cecile was in Narbonne in 1907 (x2) When your people gather, how to be elsewhere? From Cuxac you arrived, they shot you It is in the Rue du Pont* in 1907 (x2) That you fell on your face with four companions The Tiger** needed blood to subdue the winegrowers A coffin of stones in 1907 (x2) The Narbonne people made, they held the wake around you For three days, men and women and small children We were asking for bread in 1907 They gave [us] lead. "Let's govern by ourselves! » Were the angry men saying in the cemetery And nothing has changed since 1907 Despite Cecile's blood, despite Ferroul's yelling Others still rule over us by their money Despite Cecile's blood in 1907 Despite Ferroul's yelling in 1907 The smooth-talkers prattle on and we go around in circles. In the land of Occitania, where are the men?

* lit. "Bridge Street"
** Nickname of Georges Clémenceau, France prime minister from 1906 to 1909.

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

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

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

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: 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

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.

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, cargada 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 pot, 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-

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