Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English

Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 01 Jun 26 - 12:30 PM

This version of the song has been collected in Auvergne and in Vendée.

VOICI LA SAINT-JEAN (French) Voici la Saint-Jean, la grande journée, Demain la moisson sera commencée. Allons joli cœur la lune est levée. Piquons des bleuets dans notre coiffure, Chantons sans penser que la tâche est dure. Allons joli cœur fauchons à mesure. Dans le matin clair sous le ciel superbe, Déjà la perdrix appelle dans l'herbe. Chantons joli cœur le chant de la gerbe. Et que la moisson soit maigre ou soit bonne, Sur les sillons roux que la faux résonne Fauchons le grand blé comme Dieu le donne. Le soleil couchant dans la vallée, L'heure du repos est déjà sonnée. Allons joli cœur la lune est levée.

SAINT JOHN'S DAY IS HERE Saint John's Day is here, the great day, Tomorrow the harvest will have begun. Come on, sweetheart, the moon has risen. Let's tuck cornflowers into our hair, Let's sing without thinking the task is hard. Come on, sweetheart, let's reap as we go. In the clear morning under the superb sky, The partridge already calls in the grass. Let's sing, sweetheart, the song of the sheaf. And whether the harvest is meager or bountiful, On the russet furrows, let the scythe resound. Let's reap the tall wheat as God gives it. The setting sun in the valley, The hour of rest has already struck. Come on, sweetheart, the moon has risen.

You can hear this version sung here (bottom of the page).

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 06 Jun 26 - 01:23 PM

On Monday, Heather sang...

TRA BO DAU (Welsh traditional song) Mae'r hon a gâr fy nghalon i Ymhell oddi yma'n byw; A hiraeth am ei gweled hi A'm gwnaeth yn llwyd fy lliw. (Curfà) Cyfoeth nid yw ond oferedd, Glendid nid yw yn parhau; Ond cariad pur sydd fel y dur Yn para tra bo dau. Mil harddach yw y deg ei llun Na gwrid y wawr i mi, A thrysor mwy yw serch fy mun, Na chyfoeth byd a’i fri. O'r dewis hardd ddewisiais i Oedd dewis lodes lân; A chyn bydd 'difar gennyf fi O rhewi wnaiff y tân. Mae f'annwyl riain dros y lli, Gobeithio'i bod hi'n iach! 'Rwy'n caru'r tir lle cerddo hi Dan wraidd fy nghalon fach.

WHEN THERE ARE TWO (Literal translation) The one whom my heart loves Lives far from here And longing to see her Made my colour grey. (Chorus) Wealth is but vanity Purity does not last; But pure love is like steel, Lasting when there are two. 1000 times more beautiful is her fair form Than the blush of dawn for me; And a treasure greater is my sweetheart's love Than the world's wealth and its prestige. From the beautiful choice I had to make Was the choice of a pure lass; And before I regret it The fire will freeze. My love is over the sea, I hope that she is well! I love the ground where she walks From the core of my little heart.

WHEN THERE ARE TWO (Heather's scansion translation) The precious one beloved of my heart Lives so far from me My longing while we are far apart Makes my colors gray to see (Chorus) While wealth distracts from what is real And pur-ity fades like the dew The purest love’s / strong as the steel Enduring when there are two A thousand times my love’s fair form More beauteous than when/ dawn came A greater treasure is his/her regard Than all the world’s wealth or fame The wondrous choice that I have made Was choosing the purest love for me Before my ardor changes or fades The fire will frozen be My love is far across the sea I hope that s/he is well I love the ground whereon walks s/he In my heart too it dwells.

Singer's Notes: The en-dash in pur-ity means the first syllable is drawn out to fit the tune properly, the "/" means the location of the break in the musical phrase is at that spot.

Live rendition by Linda Griffiths and her daughter Lisa Healy
Tra Bo Dau YouTube page

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 06 Jul 26 - 02:28 PM

AMNÓN Y TAMAR (Spanish) (Cf. 2 Samuel 13) Un rey moro tenía un hijo que Tranquilo se llamaba; un día estando jugando, se enamoró de su hermana. Como no podía ser, se hizo el enfermo en la cama. Le subió su padre a ver. -¿Qué tienes, hijo del alma? ¿Quieres que te mate un ave de esas que se crían en casa? Lo que yo quiero es un caldo que me lo suba mi hermana. Era en tiempo de verano y subió en enagua blanca. La agarró por la cintura, sobre la cama la echaba, con un pañuelo de seda, la boquita la tapaba. A eso de los nueve meses, cayó muy grave en la cama. Llamaron a los doctores, los mejores de Granada. Unos le toman el pulso, otros le miran la cara; Se dicen unos a otros: -Esta niña está preñada.

AMNON AND TAMAR A Moorish king had a son Who was named Tranquilo; One day, while at play, He fell in love with his sister. Since it could not be, He feigned illness and took to his bed. His father came up to see him: "What ails you, my beloved son? Do you want me to kill a fowl Of the kind we raise at home?" "What I want is some broth Brought up to me by my sister." It was summertime, And she came up in a white petticoat. He seized her by the waist, He laid her upon the bed, And with a silk handkerchief, He covered her little mouth. Some nine months later, She fell gravely ill in bed. They summoned the doctors, The best in Granada. Some took her pulse, Others looked at her face; They said to one another: "This girl is pregnant."

Recording by Joaquín Díaz.
Different tune and slightly different lyrics recorded by Medio Celemín
Another different tune and slightly different lyrics recorded by
Nuevo Mester de Juglaría
Another different tune and slightly different lyrics recorded by Mayalde

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 03 Aug 26 - 02:17 PM

EL TRAIDOR MARQUILLOS (Spanish) Cuán traidor eres, Marquillos, cuán traidor de corazón, por dormir con tu señora, degollaste a tu señor. Desque le tuviste muerto, le quitaste el chapirón, fuéraste al alto castillo donde estaba Blancaflor. - Abridme, linda señora, que viene vuestro señor; si no lo queréis creer, ved aquí su chapirón. Blancaflor desque lo viera, las puertas luego le abrió y Marquillos, deseoso, a una estancia la metió. - Por Dios te ruego, Marquillos, que me otorgues un favor, que no durmieses conmigo hasta que rayase el sol. Marquillos, como es hidalgo, el favor le concedió, mas como estaba cansado, en sentado, se adurmió. Levantóse muy ligera la valiente Blancaflor tomara un cuchillo en mano, y a Marquillos degolló.

MARQUILLOS THE TRAITOR What a traitor you are, Marquillos, A traitor at heart; To sleep with your lady, You slit your lord's throat. Once you had killed him, You took his hat/hood, And went to the high castle Where Blancaflor dwelt. "Open to me, lovely lady, For your lord has come; If you will not believe it, Look here at his hat/hood." When Blancaflor saw it, She opened the doors at once, And Marquillos, full of desire, Led her into a chamber. "I beg you, by God, Marquillos, Grant me one favor: Do not sleep with me Until the sun rises." Marquillos, being a nobleman, Granted her the favor, But, being weary, He fell asleep sitting up. Brave Blancaflor Rose very swiftly, Took a knife in her hand, And slit Marquillos's throat.

Recording by Joaquín Díaz

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 07 Sep 26 - 01:48 PM

LA BATELIÈRE (French) [Ce sont les messieurs de la cour Après l' souper, vont faire l'amour] x2 [Ils s'en vont tous, le long de la rivière En caressant la jolie batelière] x2 "Belle batelière, dans ton bateau Voudrais-tu m'y faire passer l’eau ? Dans ton bateau il y a de jolies chaises Nous passerions la rivière à notre aise." À peine était-il embarqué De force a voulu l'embrasser "Allons, monsieur ! Un peu de patience ! N's sommes point ici dans un lieu d'assurance. -C’est vrai, la belle, tu as raison Je vois d'ici une maison Et nous serions dans la plus haute chambre Nous causerions de badinage ensemble Belle, tes amours sont si chers Qu'on ne saurait les marchander -Pour cent écus mon avantage est bonne, Pour deux cents autres mes amours sont les vôtres." Le beau monsieur mit ses gants blancs Se mit à compter son argent "Prenez la belle, de l'or en abondance Prenez-en tant que vous serez contente" Quand le bateau fut abordé Le monsieur sortit le premier Elle attira son navire en arrière Puis elle s'en va le long la rivière. "Belle, aurais-tu le cœur content De t’en aller avec l'argent ? -De ton argent, t'en as été le maître – De mon honneur, moi, j'en suis la maîtresse -Belle, que diront mes parents De m' voir revenir sans argent? -Tu leur diras –tu ne mentiras guère- 'J'ai voulu jouer avec la batelière' -Ah ! si jamais j'y repasse l'eau, Je t'y noierai dans ton bateau. -Mon beau Monsieur, ne soyez pas si fier, Car de ma vie n' serai plus batelière. Avec ton or et ton argent Je m'en irai dans un couvent, Dans un couvent, couvent de religieuses Où j'y passerai une vie bienheureuse."

THE FERRYWOMAN The gentlemen of the court Go womanizing after supper; They all head down along the river, Flirting with the pretty ferrywoman. "Fair ferrywoman, in your boat, Would you ferry me across the water? There are fine seats in your boat; We could cross the river at our ease." Scarcely had he stepped aboard When he tried to kiss her by force. "Come now, sir! A little patience! We are not in a safe place here." "It’s true, my beauty, you are right; I see a house from here, And we would be in the highest room Together we would chat about flirtation." "Pretty, your favors come so dear That one cannot haggle over them;" "For a hundred crowns, my "advantage" (virginity) is safe (lit. "good"), For two hundred more, my love is yours." The fine gentleman put on his white gloves And began to count out his money. "Take, beauty, gold in abundance; Take as much as will content you." When the boat reached the shore, The gentleman stepped out first; She pulled her vessel back away, Then she went on her way along the river. "Pretty, would you be happy-hearted To go off with the money?" "You were the master of your money But I am the mistress of my honor." "Pretty, what will my parents say To see me return without money?" Tell them—and you’ll hardly be lying "I've wanted to play with the ferrywoman." "Ah! If ever I cross those waters again, I’ll drown you right there in your boat." "My fine sir, do not be so proud, For never again will I be a ferrywoman." "With your gold and your money, I will go to a convent, To a convent, a convent of nuns, Where I will live a blissful life."

It doesn't show in English as you don't use the informal form of "you" but he addresses her as "tu" (informal) while she addresses him as "vous" (formal) but as soon as she has deceived him by pulling her boat backwards, she addresses him as "tu" claiming indirectly a higher status. He addresses her as "vous" only when he offers her the money though I suspect it's more about the right number of syllables to match the tune.

Recording by Marie-Noëlle Lemapihan in Anthologie de la chanson française
Slightly different version with a slightly different tune by the Quebec band Hommage aux Aînés.
Another slightly different version with a slightly different tune by Bargainatt.
"La batelière" YouTube page

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 05 Oct 26 - 02:02 PM

LA MAIRE E LA FILHA (Occitan) La maire e la filha Segavan lo blat, pecaire ! La maire e la filha Segavan lo blat. Jos una gavèla, Trobèron un gojat, pecaire ! Jos una gavèla, Trobèron un gojat. Ò çò ditz la maire, M'en cau la mitat, Çò diguèt la filha, Aquò serà jutjat. Anarem a la vila, Cercar'n' avocat. Çò diguèt lo jutge, Serà lèu partajat. Lo blat a la maire, La filha al gojat. Ò lo maissant jutge Que n'a tant mal jutjat! La filha qu'es jove, N'auriá pron trobat. E io que soi vièlha, N'en trobarai pus cap !

MOTHER AND DAUGHTER Mother and daughter Were harvesting the wheat, "pecaire"* Mother and daughter Were harvesting the wheat Under a sheaf, They found a young man, "pecaire" Under a sheaf, They found a young man "Ah," said the mother, "I need half of him." The daughter said, "It will be judged." "We'll go to town To find a lawyer." The judge said, "It will be quickly divided. The wheat to the mother The daughter to the young man." "Oh, the wicked judge Who judged so badly My daughter, who is young, Would have found plenty, And I, who am old, Will find none any more."

*Pecaire can be translated as "alas, poor thing, poor dear, good god, pity, gadzooks..." depending on the context.

Live rendition by Chantal Ten

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