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Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English

Related threads:
Songs from the Mudcat Worldwide Singaround (110)
Mudcat Worldwide Singaround - On Zoom Mondays! (151)
Ideas for Mudcat Singaround 1st Birthday-June 7 (30)
Worldwide Singaround thread overflow (288)


Monique 23 Jul 21 - 06:48 PM
Felipa 27 Jul 21 - 08:36 AM
Monique 27 Jul 21 - 12:47 PM
Monique 02 Aug 21 - 04:18 PM
Monique 09 Aug 21 - 02:25 PM
Felipa 09 Aug 21 - 07:09 PM
Monique 16 Aug 21 - 01:56 PM
Monique 29 Aug 21 - 11:34 AM
BDenz 29 Aug 21 - 04:27 PM
Monique 01 Sep 21 - 12:33 PM
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Felipa 06 Sep 21 - 07:03 PM
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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 23 Jul 21 - 06:48 PM

The song was sung on 2020/12/09 but nobody had posted the Irish lyrics so the title in the list at the top of the thread had remained without a link so far. Thanks Felipa!


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 27 Jul 21 - 08:36 AM

I've added A MHIC MO CHROÍ to a Mudcat thread about the song Mrs McGrath. A Mhic mo Chroí is an Irish language translation of that song about a man who loses his legs in war.
https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=152267


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 27 Jul 21 - 12:47 PM

I've also added the title with a link to the list at the top of the page.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 02 Aug 21 - 04:18 PM

This song is based on the fable La cigale et la foumi by La Fontaine (French text with an English translation)
PAURA CIGALA (Occitan)

Paura cigala, lo bon temps passat,
Paura cigala lo bon temps passat,
Lo bon temps passat, paura cigala,
Lo bon temps passat a pas amassat.

Vèrs sa vesina quand lo freg venguèt,
Vèrs sa vesina quand lo freg venguèt
Quand lo freg venguèt, vèrs sa vesina,
Quand lo freg venguèt se'n corriguèt.

Brava vesina, ieu crèbi de fam,
Brava vesina, ieu crèbi de fam,
Ieu crèbi de fam, brava vesina,
Ieu crèbi de fam amb mos enfants.

Quand ieu glanavi, de qué fasiatz vos?
Quand ieu glanavi, de qué fasiatz vos?
De qué fasiatz vos quand ieu glanavi?
De qué fasiatz vos amb los pichons?

Quand vos glanavetz, ne cantavi dos,
Quand vos glanavetz, ne cantavi dos,
Ne cantavi dos, quand vos glanavetz,
Ne cantavi dos amb los pichons.

Ara vesina, ne cal dançar tres,
Ara vesina, ne cal dançar tres,
Ne cal dançar tres brava vesina,
Ne cal dançar tres e manjar pas res!
POOR CICADA

Poor cicada, once the fine weather gone,
Poor cicada, once the fine weather gone,
Once the fine weather gone, poor cicada,
Once the fine weather gone has gathered nothing.

To her neighbor's when the cold came,
To her neighbor's when the cold came,
When the cold came, to her neighbor's
When the cold came she hurried.

Nice neighbor, I'm starving,
Nice neighbor, I'm starving,
I'm starving, nice neighbor,
I'm starving with my children.

When I was gleaning, what were you doing?
When I was gleaning, what were you doing?
What were you doing, when I was gleaning?
What were you doing with your little ones?

When you were gleaning, I was singing two [songs]
When you were gleaning, I was singing two [songs]
I was singing two when you were gleaning,
I was singing two with my little ones.

Now neighbor, you'll have to dance three,
Now neighbor, you'll have to dance three,
You'll have to dance three, nice neighbor,
You'll have to dance three and eat nothing!
Lisa has improved my translation on this Mama Lisa's World page

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 09 Aug 21 - 02:25 PM

LLORABA LA NIÑA (1590)(Spanish)
Luis de Gongora (1561-1627)
Music by Paco Ibañez (1934 - )

Lloraba la niña
(y tenía razón)
la prolija ausencia
de su ingrato amor.
Dejóla tan niña,
que apenas creo yo
que tenía los años
que ha que la dejó.

Llorando la ausencia
del galán traidor,
la halla la Luna
y la deja el Sol,
añadiendo siempre
pasión a pasión,
memoria a memoria,
dolor a dolor.
Llorad, corazón,
que tenéis razón.

Dícele su madre:
«Hija, por mi amor,
que se acabe el llanto,
o me acabe yo.»
Ella le responde:
«No podrá ser, no:
las causas son muchas,
los ojos son dos.
Satisfagan, madre,
tanta sinrazón,
y lágrimas lloren
en esta ocasión,
tantas como dellos
un tiempo tiró
flechas amorosas
el arquero dios.

Ya no canto, madre,
y si canto yo,
muy tristes endechas
mis canciones son;
porque el que se fue,
con lo que llevó,
se dejó el silencio,
y llevó la voz.»
Llorad, corazón,
Que tenéis razón.
THE GIRL WAS WEEPING



The girl was weeping
(And she had a reason [why])
Over the long absence
Of her ungrateful love.
He left her so young
That I believe
She hardly had as many years
As the ones since he'd left her*.

Crying over the absence
Of the traitorous gallant,
The moon finds her
And the sun leaves her,
Always adding
Passion to passion
Memory to memory,
Pain to pain.
Cry, my heart,
As you have a reason [why].

Her mother told her:
"Daughter, for the love of me
Let the crying end
Or let me be dead."
She replies:
"It cannot be, no:
The causes are many,
The eyes are two.
Let them satisfy, mother,
So much injustice,
And let them weep tears
At this moment,
As many [tears] as loving arrows
The archer god
Shot once
From them.

I no longer sing, mother,
And if I sing
My songs are
Very sad laments
Because the one who left,
With what he took away,
He left the silence
And took the voice away.
Cry, my heart,
As you have a reason [why].
*The way to express age is totally different in Romance languages. We "have" X years, we "are" not X years old, so the sentence might awkwardly be translated as "She hardly had [as many] the years as it'd been since he left her." I.e if she was 15 years old when he left her, it'd been 15 years since he did. It's the best I can put it!

Recording by Paco Ibañez

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 09 Aug 21 - 07:09 PM

A Mhic Mo Chroí (Irish language), which was posted 21 July 2021 in
https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=152267#4114521


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 16 Aug 21 - 01:56 PM

ARMSTRONG (French)
Sung by Claude Nougaro (1929 – 2004)
(Traditional /Claude Nougaro-Maurice Vander)

Armstrong, je ne suis pas noir,
Je suis blanc de peau
Quand on veut chanter l'espoir
Quel manque de pot !
Oui j'ai beau voir le ciel, l'oiseau
Rien, rien ne luit là-haut
Les anges, zéro,
Je suis blanc de peau.

Armstrong, tu te fends la poire,
On voit toutes tes dents,
Moi je broie plutôt du noir
Du noir en dedans.
Chante pour moi, Louis, oh oui,
Chante, chante, chante ça tient chaud
J'ai froid, oh moi
Qui suis blanc de peau.

Armstrong, la vie, quelle histoire !
C'est pas très marrant
Qu'on l'écrive blanc sur noir
Ou bien noir sur blanc
On voit surtout du rouge, du rouge,
Sang, sang, sans trêve ni repos,
Qu'on soit, ma foi,
Noir ou blanc de peau.

Armstrong, un jour, tôt ou tard
On n'est que des os.
Est-ce que les tiens seront noirs
Ce s'rait rigolo
Allez Louis, alléluia,
Au-delà de nos oripeaux,
Noir et Blanc sont ressemblants
Comme deux gouttes d'eau.
ARMSTRONG
(based on "Go Down Moses")
Tribute to Louis Armstrong

Armstrong, I am not black
I am white-skinned
When one wants to sing about hope,
What a bad luck! (1)
Yes, even though I do see the sky, the bird,
Nothing, nothing shines up there.
Angels: none.
I am white-skinned.

Armstrong, you split your sides laughing (2)
All your teeth show out.
As for me, I rather brood (3)
All black inside.
Sing for me Louis, oh yes,
Sing, sing, sing, it keeps [me] warm.
I'm cold, oh I
Who am white-skinned.

Armstrong, life… what a fuss! (4)
It's not very funny
Be it written white on black
Or black on white.
It's mostly red, red to be seen
Blood, blood, without truce/break nor rest (5)
Be we, I say,
Black or white-skinned.

Armstrong, one day sooner or later
We're nothing but bones...
Will yours be black?
That would be funny.
Come on, Louis, hallelujah (6)
Beyond (underneath) our attire
Black and White are alike
Like two drops of water.
Explanations of the puns:
(1) pun between "peau" (skin) and "pot" luck, "manque de pot" (lack of luck) and "manque de peau" (lack of skin [color]). Btw, "pot" is old slang for bum as was "bol" (bowl).
(2) "Se fendre la poire", meaning "to split one sides laughing", literally translates as "to split one's 'pear'", "pear" being slang for head, face… hence all his teeth showing out.
(3) "Broyer du noir", meaning "to brood", "to be blue/sad", literally translates as "to grind black"
(4) Lit. "What a story" but in French "histoire" is both "story" and "history", so "be it written..." refers to both meanings.
(5)"On voit surtout du rouge, du rouge, / Sang, sang, sans trêve ni repos". Lit. "One sees mostly red, red, blood, blood, without truce/break nor rest" but "rouge sang" means "blood-red" and "sang" (blood) and "sans" (without) sound alike.
(6) "Allez, Louis, alléluia": "allez", lit. "go" means "come on" and the beginning of "alléluia" sounds like "allez" but in English you can't split "hallelujah" to make a pun as in "… And the steam boat went to / Hello operator"…

You'll also find a translation on Lyrics translate.com

Lyrics Maurice Vander / Claude Nougaro
(Let My People Go) © Les Editions Du Chiffre Neuf, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Salut Ô Éditions, SO2 Édition, Quatryo Éditions

1989 live rendition in Paris Zénith
1965 recording recording
1998 live rendition in Toulouse


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 29 Aug 21 - 11:34 AM

Last Monday, Sé fáth mo bhuartha in Irish Gaelic and An páistin fionn in English and Irish Gaelic were sung. I'll add the links on the right list at the top of the thread.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: BDenz
Date: 29 Aug 21 - 04:27 PM

Monique - you've been busy! I found all my old familiars on your list and added a few that weren' on mine.

Thanks for starting this


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 01 Sep 21 - 12:33 PM

On Monday Casey sang Kol Ha'Olam Kulo. She learned the song from Holly Hoffnung of the Portland Folk Music Society, at their Singtime weekend in 2019.

Kol Ha'Olam Kulo /Gesher Tzar Me’od - A Very Narrow Bridge
Hebrew lyrics by Rabbi Nachman of Breslov (Ukraine) (1772-1810)
Music by Rabbi Baruch Chait (Feb. 23rd 1946 - )
Transliteration
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.
Translation
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.
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.
Hebrew lyrics

כָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ גֶּשֶׁר צָר מְאֹד
גֶּשֶׁר צָר מְאדֹ גֶּשֶׁר צָר מְאֹד
כָּל הָעוֹלָם כֻּלּוֹ גֶּשֶׁר צָר מְאֹד
גֶּשֶׁר צָר מְאֹד
וְהָעִיקָר וְהָעִיקָר לֹא לְפַחַד לֹא לְפַחַד כְּלָל
וְהָעִיקָר וְהָעִיקָר לֹא לְפַחַד כְּלָל


Recording by Ofran Haza
Live rendition by Avraham Fried (Avraham Fried concert "Shnas Hakhel" Odessa, Ukraine) in both Hebrew and English.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 06 Sep 21 - 03:05 PM

Montredon (Occitan)
(Marcel Sauzel 1922-2003. Sung by "La Sauze" 1979)


Dos òmes son tombats sul sòl de Montredon.
Emili èra occitan, Joël èra breton.
Son mòrts e cresi pas qu’aquò plan importèsse
Qu’un siá viticultor e l’autre C.R.S.
A Brèst o a Quimpèr se se torna passar,
Emili serà flic e Joël païsan.

Èra un quatre de març, veniá roge lo cèl.
Sus la plana fumava encara l’escaucèl,
Quand la mòrt uniguèt dos fraires de misèria,
Dos innocents pastats dins la mèma matèria
Que, sens saber perqué, gendarme e vinhairon,
Son tombats coma un sol al mièg d’un carrairon.

Un es mòrt per sa tèrra e l’autre per pas res.
Sauprem pas jamai lo pus de plànher quan es.
Vos demandi tanben, e mai se vos arraca,
De los plegar ensem dins la meteissa saca
E de pas pus cercar a tot pèrdre, cossí
De l’un ne faire un sant, de l’autre un assassin.

Bretanha e Lengadòc, cadun perdèt un filh,
Mas los murtrièrs son pas los qu’avián un fusilh.
Èran dins de burèus, tirats a quatre espillas,
Rosetas al revèrs, consciéncias tranquillas.
Los copables per los trapar valdriá melhor
Gaitar cap a París, l’Elisèu, Matinhon.

Jutjaretz benlèu qu’es tardièra ma cançon,
Qu’es passada de mòda e pas pus de sason.
Vos vesi romegar e me faire la tronha :
"Desenterrar los mòrts, s’es pas una vergonha !"
Podètz totjorn bramar, mas per ieu es segur
Que Montredon es mai vivent que Montsegur.

Dins vint ans i aurà pus degun a Montredon.
Pus degun, e de vin aurà rajat jol pont.
Mas del quatre de març, aurem grand gaug encara,
Per ne nos remebrar, del cant d’una guitarra,
E per tornar trapar, foguèssa roge o blanc,
Al vin setanta sièis, un rèire-gost de sang.
Montredon



Two men fell on the ground of Montredon (1),
Emil was Occitan, Joel was Breton,
They're dead and I don't think it matters much
That one was a grape-grower and the other a CRS (2) man
In Brest or in Quimper, if it happens again,
Emil will be a cop and Joel a farmer.

It was a 4th of March, the sky was turning red,
On the plain, the unearthing holes around the vine stocks were still steaming
When death joined two brothers in misfortune,
Two innocents kneaded/molded in the same matter
Who, without knowing why, gendarme and grape-grower,
Fell down as one in the middle of a path (3).

One died for his land and the other for nothing,
We'll never know which one is to be most sorry for,
So, I ask from you, even if you're reluctant,
To wrap them together in the same bag
And to seek no more desperately how
To make a saint out of one and a killer out of the other.

Brittany and Languedoc, each one lost a son,
But the murderers are not the ones who had a gun,
They were in offices, well turned-out,
With rosettes on their lapels and clear consciences.
To find the culprits, it'd be better
To look towards Paris, the Élysée, Matignon (4)

You'll maybe judge my song to be late,
To be out of date and out of season,
I see you grumble and be mad at me:
"To unbury the dead, isn't it a shame?!"
You can yell as you want, but for me, it's sure
That Montredon is more alive than Montsegur (5)

In twenty years, there'll be no one any more in Montredon,
No one any more and wine will have flowed under the bridge (6),
But, to remember the 4th of March,
We'll still have great pleasure from the song of a guitar,
And to find once more, be it red or white,
To the [19]76 wine, an after-taste of blood.
On March 4th 1976, two men were killed during a grape-growers revolt, a local grape-grower, Émile Pouytès, and a Breton policeman, Joël Le Goff.
(1) Montredon (lit. "round mount/hill"), French "Montredon-les-Corbières", a small town in the winegrowing region of Southern France.
(2) CRS (Compagnies Républicaines de Sécurité = Republican Security Corps) The CRS are a civilian corps trained in anti-insurrection and antiriot techniques.
(3) The path between two rows of vine stocks.
(4) Élysée [Palace]: official residence of the President of the French Republic, Matignon [Hôtel de Matignon] official residence and work place of the Prime Minister of France
(5) Montsegur: a former fortress near Montségur, a commune in the Ariège department in southern France. Its ruins are the site of a razed stronghold of the Cathars. In 1242 about 10,000 royal troops besieged the castle that was held by about 100 fighters and was home to 211 Perfects (who were pacifists and did not fight) and civilian refugees. The siege lasted nine months, until in March 1244, the castle finally surrendered. Approximately 220 Cathars were burned en masse in a bonfire at the foot of the hill when they refused to renounce their faith. (Montsegur page)
(6) "Wine will have flowed under the bridge", based on "water will have flowed under the bridge" = a long time will have passed.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 06 Sep 21 - 07:03 PM

sung 07 Sept 2021

Ali: Díleachtín Gun Bhrí https://mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=96313


Mayn Ru'e Platz
https://mudcat.org/@displaysong.cfm?SongID=3924


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 07 Sep 21 - 06:31 PM

Mayn ru'e plats Yiddish lyrics in Hebrew characters

מײַן רוע־פּלאַץ

ניט זוך מיך וווּ די מירטן גרינען
געפֿינסט מיך דאָרטן ניט מייַן שאַץ
וווּ לעבנס וועלקן בייַ מאַשינען
דאָרטן איז מייַן רוע־פּלאַץ

ניט זוך מיך וווּ די פֿייגל זינגען
געפֿינסט מיך דאָרטן ניט מייַן שאַץ
אַ שקלאַף בין איך וווּ קייטן קלינגען
דאָרטן איז מייַן רוע־פּלאַץ

ניט זוך מיך וווּ פֿאָנטאַנען שפּריצן
געפֿינסט מיך דאָרטן ניט מייַן שאַץ
וווּ טרערן רינען ציינער קריצן
דאָרטן איז מייַן רוע־פּלאַץ

און ליבסטו מיך מיט וואַרער ליבע
טאָ קום צו מיר מייַן גוטער שאַץ
און הייַטער אויף מייַן האַרץ דאָס טריבע
און מאַך מיר זיס מייַן רוע־פּלאַץ


Mudcat discussion thread about the song: Lyr Add: Main Rue Platz (in Yiddish)

Recording by The Klezmorim
Recorded by Vocolot, a Jewish women’s a cappella quartet.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 13 Sep 21 - 03:13 PM

QUAND LES HOMMES VIVRONT D'AMOUR (1956)
paroles et musique: Raymond Lévesque (1928 - 2021)

Quand les hommes vivront d'amour,
Il n'y aura plus de misère
Et commenceront les beaux jours
Mais nous, nous serons morts, mon frère.

Quand les hommes vivront d'amour,
Ce sera la paix sur la terre,
Les soldats seront troubadours,
Mais nous, nous serons morts, mon frère

Dans la grande chaîne de la vie,
Où il fallait que nous passions,
Où il fallait que nous soyons,
Nous aurons eu la mauvaise partie

Quand les hommes vivront d'amour,
Il n'y aura plus de misère
Et commenceront les beaux jours,
Mais nous, nous serons morts, mon frère.

Mais quand les hommes vivront d'amour,
Qu'il n'y aura plus de misère
Peut-être songeront-ils un jour
À nous qui serons morts, mon frère.

Nous qui aurons aux mauvais jours,
Dans la haine et puis dans la guerre
Cherché la paix, cherché l'amour,
Qu'ils connaîtront alors mon frère.

Dans la grande chaîne de la vie,
Pour qu'il y ait un meilleur temps
Il faut toujours quelques perdants,
De la sagesse ici-bas c'est le prix.

Quand les hommes vivront d'amour,
Il n'y aura plus de misère
Et commenceront les beaux jours,
Mais nous, serons morts, mon frère.
WHEN MEN LIVE ON LOVE


When men live on love
There will be no more misery
And the beautiful days will start
But we, we will be dead my brother

When men live on love
Peace will be on earth
The soldiers will be troubadours
But we, we will be dead my brother

In the great chain of life
Where we had to go
Where we had to be
We'll have had the worst part.

When men live on love
There will be no more misery
And the beautiful days will start
But we, we will be dead my brother

But when men live on love
When there's no more misery
Maybe will they think one day
Of us who will be dead, my brother

We who will have in bad days
In hatred and also in war
Searched peace, searched love,
That they will know then, my brother

In the great chain on life
So that there can be better times
Some losses are necessary
It's the price for wisdom here below.

When men live on love
There will be no more misery
And the beautiful days will start
But we, we will be dead my brother.
The usual phrase is "Vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche" -lit. "To live on love and fresh/cool water"- used when people fall in love and they seem to live on their love only. Recording by Raymond Lévesque himself.
1974 Félix Leclerc, Gilles Vigneault & Robert Charlebois Live rendition
I'd already posted the lyrics alone when I was still posting as a guest.
French Wikipedia entry about the song

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 15 Sep 21 - 02:52 AM

STOJÍ HRUŠKA V ŠIRÉM POLI (Czech)
(Czech traditional song popularized by the Čechomor band.)

1. Stojí hruška v širém poli,
vrch se jí zelená.
Pod ní se pase kůň vraný,
drží ho má milá.
Pod ní se pase kůň vraný,
drží ho má milá.

2. Proč má milá dnes pasete,
zvečera do rána.
Kam můj milý pojedete,
já pojedu s váma.
Kam můj milý pojedete,
já pojedu s váma.

3. A já pojedu daleko,
přes hory hluboké.
Kéž sem byl nikdy nepoznal
panny černooké.
Kéž sem byl nikdy nepoznal
panny černooké.
A PEAR TREE STANDS IN A WIDE FIELD


1. A pear tree stands in a wide field,
Its top is green.
A raven-black horse is grazing under it,
My sweetheart holds him.
A raven-black horse is grazing under it,
My sweetheart holds him.

2. Why, my darling, must he graze today,
From evening to morning?
Wherever you'll go, my dear,
I'll go with you.
Wherever you'll go, my dear,
I'll go with you.

3. And I will go far,
Beyond the seas.
I wish I had never known
This black-eyed maiden.
I wish I had never known
This black-eyed maiden.
Čechomor recording + text below the video.
Čechomor live rendition
Live rendition by Carmina Bona (Children choir)
Recording by Musica Bohemica/Jaroslav Krček
If you type "Stojí hruška v širém poli" you'll come across a lot of videos.

Much longer version: Sheet music + midi file
The song at the top is said to be a variant of the version just above. Sheet music + midi file
LIPINA.org is a valuable source of traditional Slovak/Czech songbooks


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 15 Sep 21 - 03:12 AM

On Sept.6th, Jerry sang...
ΚΑΗΜΟΣ (Greek)
Στίχοι: Δημήτρης Χριστοδούλου
Μουσική: Μίκης Θεοδωράκης

Είναι μεγάλος ο γιαλός
είναι μακρύ το κύμα
είναι μεγάλος ο καημός
κι είναι πικρό το κρίμα

Ποτάμι μέσα μου πικρό
το αίμα της πληγής σου
κι από το αίμα πιο πικρό
στο στόμα το φιλί σου

Δεν ξέρεις τι ‘ναι παγωνιά
ραδιά χωρίς φεγγάρι
να μη γνωρίζεις ποια στιγμή
ο πόνος θα σε πάρει

Ποτάμι μέσα μου πικρό
το αίμα της πληγής σου
κι από το αίμα πιο πικρό
στο στόμα το φιλί σου
SORROW
Lyrics: Dimitris Christodoulou
Music: Mikis Theodorakis

The sea-shore is long,
The waves are high
The sorrow is great
And bitter the sin

Within me a river,
Bitter blood of my* wound
And your kiss on the mouth
More bitter than blood

You do not know the frost
Of a moonless night
To know not at which moment
The pain will take you

Within me a river,
Bitter blood of my wound
And your kiss on the mouth
More bitter than blood
*I take this "my" as "the wound you inflicted on me" because "σου" means "your", not "my"
Translation borrowed from Lyricstranslate.com

Transliteration...
Kaimos

eínai megálos o gialós
eínai makrý to kýma
eínai megálos o kaimós
ki eínai pikró to kríma

potámi mésa mou pikró
to aíma tis pligís sou
ki apó to aíma pio pikró
sto stóma to filí sou

den xéreis ti ‘nai pagoniá
radiá chorís fengári
na mi gnorízeis poia stigmí
o pónos tha se párei

potámi mésa mou pikró
to aíma tis pligís sou
ki apó to aíma pio pikró
sto stóma to filí sou
... which sounds more or less like...
kemós

íne megálos o yalós
íne makrí to kíma
íne megálos o kemós
ki íne mikró to kríma

potámi mésa mu pikró
to éma tis pliyís su
ki apó to éma pio pikró
sto stóma to filí su

dhen kséris ti’ne pagoniá
radhiá horís fengári
na mi gnorízis pia stigmí
o pónos tha se pári

potámi mésa mu pikró
to éma tis pliyís su
ki apó to éma pio pikró
sto stóma to filí su
... in which the accented vowels are stressed and...
"a" as in "father"
"e" as in "bed"
"i" = "ee"
"o" = "oh"
"u" = "oo"
"dh" = "th" in "the -this"
"th" = "th" in "thick - thin"
"g" sounds like a gargling sound
"h" before "a", "o", "u" or consonant = "j" in Spain Spanish or "ch" in German "Bach" or Scottish "ch" in "loch"
"y" as in "you"

Sung by Mikis Theodorakis, Grigoris Bithikotsis and Manolis Mitsias.
Sung by Mikis Theodorakis
Sung by Yannis Kotsiras

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 20 Sep 21 - 03:20 PM

On Sept 14th 2020 Mysha sang:
OEBKE GROU
Gerard van Maasakkers
(West Frisian. However, that is not original song and language.
The original is "Cis Verdonk", in the Brabantian dialect, from the 1970-s.- Mysha)

Ik sil jim ris wat sjonge: it is oer Oebke Grou
Hja wenne hjir yn't doarp, yn in húske efterôf
Hja dronk, en hja stonk, en har hûnen like sa,
Mar Oebke klage nea: it wie goed; sa woe hja 't hawwe

It nijs seach hja net, dêrfan hie hja gjin ferlet
En de lju dy seinen allegear: Oebke dy is wat nuver hear.
En hie Oebke wat snobbersguod, dan tochtest by dysels fan "Ba!
Wa wit hoe lang dy yn har fieze jakje sitten hawwe"

It wie op in tongersdei, dat de buorlju kamen en klagen
By de plysje, om't: De hûnen dy hienen sa'n leven, sûnt twa dagen
It plysjehaad dy die der wat oan; hy stjoerde plysje Terlea
Dy fûn dêr Oebke Grou; hja lei al dagen dea.

It nijs ier en it nijs let, dy hienen fan sa'n ferhaal ferlet,
Dat de lju dy seagen allegear: dat mei Oebke dat wie nuver hear
En doe't hja troch de hûs gongen, leien yn't laad fan it dressoir
Sântsjen rôltsjes pipermintsjes, kreas njonken elkoar
OEBKE GROU




I will now sing you a story: It's about Oebke Grou *
She had a cottage in the village, a bit out of the way
She drank, and she stank, and her dogs did as well.
Oebke never complained: it's how she wanted it to be

She never looked at the news; that was no good to her
And the people all said: Oebke is a bit of a character.
And if Oebke offered you some candy, then you silently wondered "Yuck
Who knows how long that sat in that filthy jacket of hers."

One day, on a Thursday, the neighbours came to report
To the police: The dogs had been making such a racket, for two days
The head of police did something about it; he sent constable Terlea
He then found Oebke Grou there; she had lain dead there for days.

The early news and the late news, they all needed such a story,
Thus all the people saw: That with Oebke sure was strange
And when they looked through the house, in the dresser drawer they found:
Seventeen rolls of pepermints, neatly in a row.
* This "Oebke" is a female. After I picked the name I found some people would consider it rather a male name, but I decided against messing with it afterwards. "Grou" can be a family name, referring to a family hailing from the village of that name, but it might equally well be nickname used for someone who is rather heavyset. -Mysha


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 27 Sep 21 - 03:21 PM

Note that these lyrics are written in what we call "classical norm" based on how the troubadours used to write. You'll probably find on the internet the lyrics written in a more phonetic way based on French spelling.
LO BAILÈRA (Occitan)
Collected by Joseph Canteloube in Auvergne

Pastre de delai l'aiga
As gaire de bon temps,
Diga-lo! Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!
E n'ai pas gaire, e diga tu!
Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!

Pastre, lo prat fa flor
Cal gardar ton tropèl
Diga-lo! Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!
L'èrba es plus fina al prat d'aici,
Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!

Pastre, cossí farai?
Aval i a lo bel riu,
Diga-lo! Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!
"Espèra-me, te vau cercar!"
Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!
THE BAILÈRA*


"Shepherd from beyond the water,
You don't have much good time,
Say it! Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!
And I don't have much, say it
Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!

Shepherd, the meadow is blossoming,
You must watch your flock,
Say it! Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!
The grass is finer in this meadow,
Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!

Shepherd, how will I do?
Down there is the big river,
Say it! Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!"
"Wait for me, I'm going to fetch you!"
Bailèra lèra,
Lèra-lèra lèra-lèra
Bailera la!
*bailèra (also spelled "bailero") is the song/cry the shepherds used to call one another across the hills/mountains.

Live rendition by Véronique Gens
Recording by Netania Davrath
Recording by Frederica von Stade with views from the Auvergne region.
Recording by
Gérard Souzay


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 04 Oct 21 - 02:32 PM

LO GRAND BAILÈRA (Occitan)

Pastora, pastora, pastora,
As capèl, saile e mantèl?
Pastora, pastora, pastora,
As capèl, saile e mantèl?
Ò mon bèl pastre,
Quand lo sèr tombarà,
Bailèra, ò,
Ò mon bèl pastre,
L'amor me parlarà,
Bailèra, ò.

Pastora, pastora, pastora,
As capèl, saile e mantèl?
Pastora, pastora, pastora,
As capèl, saile e mantèl?
Ò mon bèl pastre,
Dans lo bòsc de Labrò,
Bailèra, ò,
Ò mon bèl pastre,
Mon Joan m'esperarà,
Bailèra, ò.

Pastora, pastora, pastora,
Tot amor morís en flor
Pastora, pastora, pastora,
Tot amor morís en flor
Ò mon bèl pastre,
Mas lo mieu florirà,
Bailèra, ò,
Ò mon bèl pastre,
Jamai se passirà,
Bailèra, ò.

Pastora, pastora, pastora,
Ò malcòr ton Joan es mòrt,
Pastora, pastora, pastora,
Ò malcòr ton Joan es mòrt,
Adieu, bèl pastre,
Quand lo sèr tombarà,
Bailèra, ò,
A Joan mon pastre,
La mòrt me ligarà,
Bailèra, ò.
THE GREAT BAILÈRA

Shepherdess, shepherdess, shepherdess,
Do you have hat, shawl and mantle?
Shepherdess, shepherdess, shepherdess,
Do you have hat, shawl and mantle?
Oh, my fine shepherd,
When evening falls,
Bailèra, oh
Oh, my fine shepherd,
Love will talk to me,
Bailèra, oh.

Shepherdess, shepherdess, shepherdess,
Do you have hat, shawl and mantle?
Shepherdess, shepherdess, shepherdess,
Do you have hat, shawl and mantle?
Oh, my fine shepherd,
In the wood of Labro,
Bailèra, oh
Oh, my fine shepherd,
My John will wait for me,
Bailèra, oh.

Shepherdess, shepherdess, shepherdess,
Every love dies in bloom
Shepherdess, shepherdess, shepherdess,
Every love dies in bloom
Oh, my fine shepherd,
But mine will blossom
Bailèra, oh
Oh, my fine shepherd,
Never will it wither,
Bailèra, oh.

Shepherdess, shepherdess, shepherdess,
Oh what a pity, your John is dead
Shepherdess, shepherdess, shepherdess,
Oh what a pity, your John is dead
Farewell, fine shepherd,
When evening falls
Bailèra, oh
To John my shepherd,
Death will tie me,
Bailèra, oh.
You can find the lyrics and an accurate French translation on pages 14-15 of this pdf document. These lyrics (as the ones above) are written in what we call "classical spelling/norm" based on the troubadours' spelling in the Middle Ages

You'll find a harmonized sheet music on page 2 of Chansons du Rouergue, Vol II by Léon Froment (1869-1934). Note that the French lyrics below the score are not a translation of the original lyrics but a French set on the same topic as a more or less literal translation wouldn't fit the tune. These lyrics are in what we call "patoisant" spelling, i.e. French regional language written phonetically with French spelling norms.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 18 Oct 21 - 03:13 PM

CAMINITO DE AVILÉS (Spanish)
(Traditional song of Asturias)

Caminito de Avilés
un carretero cantaba
al son de los esquilones
que su pareja llevaba.

Marinerito arría la vela
que está la noche tranquila y serena.

Noche tranquila y serena
no es buena para rondar
para los enamorados
es mejor la oscuridad...

Marinerito arría la vela
que está la noche tranquila y serena.

Al marinero en el mar
Nunca le falta una pena
Cuando se apaga el farol

Cuando se apaga la vela.
Marinerito arría la vela
que está la noche tranquila y serena.
ON THE WAY TO AVILÉS


On the way to Avilés
A carter was singing
To the sound of the big bells
That his yoke of oxen wore.

Little sailor, lower the sail
Because the night is calm and quiet.

A quiet and serene night
Is not good for courting
For lovers
The dark is better ...

Little sailor, lower the sail
Because the night is calm and quiet.

The sailor at sea
Is never short of a hardship
When the lantern goes out

When the candle goes out.
Little sailor, lower the sail
Because the night is calm and quiet.
In all the renditions below, only the 1st two verses are sung except for Chus Pedro's.
Recording by Joaquín Díaz
2013 live rendition by Villa Blanca Choir from Luarca (Asturias, Spain)
2016 live rendition by Héctor Braga in Asturian (lyrics below, same meaning as above)

Carretera d'Avilés,
un carreteru cantaba
Al son de los esquilones
que so pareya llevaba

Marinerillu arría la vela,
que tá la nueche clarina y serena

Nueche clarina y serena,
non ye bona pa rondar
Porque a los enamoraos
gusta-yos la escuridá

Marinerillu arría la vela,
que tá la nueche clarina y serena

Live rendition by Chus Pedro in Asturian.
Last verse:
La gaviota que yo quiero
Non taramiella la mar
Lleváronla vientos ruinos
Anque non había tempestá.

The sea doesn't sway
The seagull I love
Evil winds took her away
Even though there was no storm.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 25 Oct 21 - 04:43 AM

Last Monday Anne Coleman sang Bratach Bàna.


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Subject: RE: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Felipa
Date: 26 Oct 21 - 11:56 AM

Caislean Drom an Óir (Irish Gaelic) sung bilingually with the English language lyrics of The Castle of Dromore.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 30 Oct 21 - 03:17 AM

Last Monday, Hillel, Gabe and Nathan joined the Singaround from Israel. One of them sang "Rua dos bobos".(aka "A casa"), a Brazilian kids' song.
RUA DOS BOBOS (A CASA) (Portuguese)
Lyrics: Vinícius de Moraes (1913-1980)
Music: Toquinho (Antonio Pecci Filho - 1946 - )

Era uma casa muito engraçada
Não tinha teto, não tinha nada
Ninguém podia entra nela não
Porque na casa não tinha chão

Ninguém podia dormir na rede
Porque na casa não tinha parede
Ninguém podia fazer pipi
Porque pinico não tinha ali

Mas era feita com muito esmero
Na Rua dos Bobos, número zero
Mas era feita com muito esmero
Na Rua dos Bobos, número zero
FOOLS'STREET (THE HOUSE)



It was a very funny house
It had no roof, it had nothing.
No one could enter it, no,
Because in the house, there was no floor

No one could sleep in the hammock
Because in the house there was no wall
No one could take a pee-pee
Because there was no chamber pot there

But it was made with great care
In Fools Street, number zero
But it was done with great care
On Fools Street, number zero
Recording 1
Recording 2
Recording 3
A nice background story about the actual house. (in Portuguese)
Another article in Portuguese about the actual house and the song


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 08 Nov 21 - 02:50 PM

SE ESSA RUA FOSSE MINHA (Portuguese)

Se essa rua, se essa rua fosse minha
Eu mandava, eu mandava ladrilhar
Com pedrinhas, com pedrinhas de brilhante
Só pra ver, só pra ver meu bem passar

Nessa rua, nessa rua tem um bosque
Que se chama, que se chama Solidão
Dentro dele, dentro dele mora um anjo
Que roubou, que roubou meu coração

Se eu roubei, se eu roubei teu coração
Tu roubaste, tu roubaste o meu também
Se eu roubei, se eu roubei teu coração
Foi porque, só porque te quero bem
IF THIS STREET WERE MINE

If this street if this street were mine
I'd have, I'd have it tiled
With pebbles, with pebbles of diamond
Just to see, just to see my darling pass on.

In this street, in this street there is a wood
That is called, that is called Solitude
Inside it, inside it lives an angel
Who stole, who stole my heart

If I stole, if I stole your heart,
You stole, you stole mine too
If I stole, if I stole your heart,
It was because, just because I love you
Portuguese Wikipedia has this about the song (Google translation): "There are sources that consider this song as a song created by an unknown author in honor of Princess Isabel in the 19th century. However, there are sources that dedicate the authorship to Mário Lago and Roberto Martins, from the mid-1930s."

Live performance by Trio Amadeus
Live performance by Isadora Canto (Lyrics slightly different)
Live performance by Dudah Felix

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 10 Nov 21 - 03:38 AM

On Monday Kathryn LaMar sang Die Moorsoldaten in German and English (Peat Bog Soldiers).
On the Italian Antiwar Songs site you'll find versions of this song in 15 languages. Though the site can be set in Italian, English and French, most of the actual information is in Italian. Very interesting site!

Recording by Hannes Wader in German (Die Moorsoldaten).
Live recording by Pete Seeger in English (The Peat Bog Soldiers)
Recording by a Military male choir in French (Le chant des marais)
Recording by the Gruppo Padano di Piadena in Italian (Canto dei deportati)
Recording by Pi de la Serra y Carme Canela in Spanish -with lyrics (Los soldados del pantano)
Live rendition by Rum in Dutch (De Moorsoldaten)
Recording by Hungarian Radio and Television Chorus in Hungarian (Mocsárdal)
Recording by Marina Rossel in Catalan (Cant dels deportats)


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 15 Nov 21 - 03:01 PM

CANTARES
Lyrics: Manuel Machado Ruiz (1874- 1947)
Music: Jean-Claude Marc (1943 - )

Vino, sentimiento, guitarra y poesía,
hacen los cantares de la patria mía...
Cantares...
Quien dice cantares, dice Andalucía.

A la sombra fresca de la vieja parra,
un mozo moreno rasguea la guitarra...
Cantares...
Algo que acaricia y algo que desgarra.

La prima que canta y el bordón que llora...
Y el tiempo callado se va hora tras hora.
Cantares...
Son dejos fatales de la raza mora.

No importa la vida, que ya está perdida.
Y, después de todo, ¿qué es eso, la vida?...

Cantares...
Cantando la pena, la pena se olvida.

Madre, pena, suerte; pena, madre, muerte;
ojos negros, negros, y negra la suerte.
Cantares...
En ellos, el alma del alma se vierte.

Cantares. Cantares de la patria mía...
Cantares son sólo los de Andalucía.
Cantares...
No tiene más notas la guitarra mía.
SONGS



Wine, feeling, guitar and poetry,
Make the songs of my homeland ...
Songs ...
Who says songs, says Andalusia.

In the cool shade of the old vine,
A dark (a Gypsy) boy strums the guitar ...
Songs ...
Something that caresses and something that tears.

The E-string that sings and the drone that weeps ...
And the quiet time goes by hour after hour.
Songs ...
They're fatal marks/accents of the Moorish race.

Life doesn't matter, it's already lost.
And, after all, what is that, life? ...

Songs ...
Singing grief, grief is forgotten.

Mother, sadness, luck; grief, mother, death;
Black eyes, black, and black luck.
Songs ...
In them, the soul of the soul is poured.

Songs. Songs of my country ...
Songs are only those of Andalusia.
Songs ...
The guitar of mine has no more notes.
Some background: The music is by my former choirmaster. In the very late 80's he put on a whole show for us called "Sol y sombra" (Sun and Shade) for narrators, guitar, choir and orchestra. "Cantares" is a 4 voice piece and to match his tune, he had to repeat some lines. Yesterday I sang my alto voice tune with some tenor and soprano lines otherwise the lyrics would have made no sense.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 22 Nov 21 - 06:04 PM

L'ORAGE (1960 - French)
Georges Brassens (1922-1982)

Parlez-moi de la pluie et non pas du beau temps,
Le beau temps me dégoûte et m' fait grincer les dents,
Le bel azur me met en rage,
Car le plus grand amour qui m' fut donné sur terre
Je l' dois au mauvais temps, je l' dois à Jupiter,
Il me tomba d'un ciel d'orage.

Par un soir de novembre, à cheval sur les toits,
Un vrai tonnerr' de Brest, avec des cris d' putois,
Allumait ses feux d'artifice.
Bondissant de sa couche en costume de nuit,
Ma voisine affolée vint cogner à mon huis
En réclamant mes bons offices.

« Je suis seule et j'ai peur, ouvrez-moi, par pitié,
Mon époux vient d' partir faire son dur métier,
Pauvre malheureux mercenaire,
Contraint d' coucher dehors quand il fait mauvais temps,
Pour la bonne raison qu'il est représentant
D'un' maison de paratonnerres. »

En bénissant le nom de Benjamin Franklin,
Je l'ai mise en lieu sûr entre mes bras câlins,
Et puis l'amour a fait le reste !
Toi qui sèmes des paratonnerre' à foison,
Que n'en as-tu planté sur ta propre maison ?
Erreur on ne peut plus funeste...

Quand Jupiter alla se faire entendre ailleurs,
La belle, ayant enfin conjuré sa frayeur
Et recouvré tout son courage,
Rentra dans ses foyers fair' sécher son mari
En m' donnant rendez-vous les jours d'intempérie,
Rendez-vous au prochain orage.

À partir de ce jour j' n'ai plus baissé les yeux,
J'ai consacré mon temps à contempler les cieux,
À regarder passer les nues,
À guetter les stratus, à lorgner les nimbus,
À faire les yeux doux au moindre cumulus,
Mais elle n'est pas revenue.

Son bonhomm' de mari avait tant fait d'affaires,
Tant vendu ce soir-là de petits bouts de fer,
Qu'il était dev'nu millionnaire
Et l'avait emmenée vers les cieux toujours bleus,
Des pays imbécile' où jamais il ne pleut,
Où l'on ne sait rien du tonnerre.

Dieu fass' que ma complainte aille, tambour battant,
Lui parler de la pluie, lui parler du gros temps
Auxquels on a t'nu tête ensemble,
Lui conter qu'un certain coup de foudre assassin
Dans le mill' de mon cœur a laissé le dessin
D'un' petit' fleur qui lui ressemble...
THE THUNDERSTORM
(Translation by David Yendley)

Talk to me of the rain and not of fine weather,
Fine weather turns me off and sets my teeth on edge.
Splendid azure skies drive me wild,
For the greatest love which was granted me on earth
I owe to bad weather, I owe to Jupiter.
Love fell down from a stormy sky.

With a november ev’ning, straddling the rooftops
A dreadful thunderbolt, with deafening caterwauls,
Set off its firework display.
Leaping up from her bed in her night attire
The lady next door came banging on my portal
Crying for my good offices.

“I’m alone and frightened, open please, for pity’s sake
My husband has just left on the hard job he has,
How the poor man makes his money
Having to sleep outdoors when the weather is bad
For the good reason that he works as a sales rep
With a lightning conductor firm.

Blessing the renowned name of Benjamin Franklin
I put her in a safe place snuggled in my arms
And then it was love did the rest!
You who scatter conductors round in abundance
Why did you not stick one of them on your own home?
The most fatal mistake to make….

When Jupiter went to make himself heard elsewhere,
The beautiful woman, released from her fear
And with all her courage regained
Went back to her own hearth to get her husband dried.
Fixing me a date for all thundery weather
A date arranged for the next storm.

From that day on, I never more let my eyes drop
I devoted my time to observing the skies,
To watching the clouds going by,
Gazing at the stratus, peering at the nimbus
Casting fond eyes on the least bit of cumulus
But she hasn’t come back again.

Her good husband had secured so much business
Sold so many little iron parts on that night
That he’d become a millionaire
And had taken her away to skies always blue
Idiotic countries where never does it rain
Where nothing is known of thunder.

May God grant that my lament goes forth loud and clear
To speak to her of rain, to speak of foul weather
That we faced up to together
To tell her that a certain deadly thunderbolt
Hit its target in my heart leaving the trace
Of a small flower that is like her…
This translation has been penned by David Yendley. You'll find notes on this song and many other Brassens' songs with an English translation on his interesting blog.

THE THUNDERSTORM
(English version by Andrew Kelly and sung by Graeme Allwright)

1 Please don’t talk about sun, you can talk about rain:
All those good weather days were made to drive me insane,
And when it’s blue skies – I curse out loud:
For the truly great love of my life in this world
Was sent in a storm from Jove, the lightning God,
When love came down from Heaven’s thunder clouds.

2 One dark night in November a thunderstorm crashed.
Above roof-tops that trembled sheets of lightning flashed,
And in the tempest high winds howled and roared.
Then the lady next-door in a great state of fear
And her night-dress came over – she hoped that help was
near –
She knocked so hard she nearly broke my door.

3 I’m alone and afraid, won’t you please let me in?
My poor husband’s out, a storm means work for him;
He’s got to earn his keep against the odds.
He goes out on the job in the worst kind of weather
But the reason is plain – he’s a salesman as you’ll
gather.
He’s finding customers for lightning rods .

4 And I blessed the inventor, good Benjamin Franklin,
As I opened my arms and took her safely within –
You know that Love will always find a way.
But I wonder super-salesman of lightning conduction
Why you made the mistake, and issued no instruction
To put one in for her security?



5 Now when Jove and his thunderbolts went off elsewhere
And the beauty at last had overcome her fear,
And had completely pulled herself together;
She went home where she dried out the poor man, but first
Made her plans to return if a thunderstorm should burst.
We had a date! Depending on the weather!

6 From that moment I never once lowered my eyes,
I did nothing but gaze upon the great wide skies
And watch the passing clouds that floated free.
I would look out for stratus, I would seek out the nimbus,
Making eyes to encourage fair cumulus into grimness,
And yet she never did come back to me.

7 For that evening her husband had been in fine fettle
And the fellow had sold so many bits of metal
That he became a millionaire no wonder!
So he took her away to the bluest of skies,
To the stupidest lands where rain’s not recognized
And no-one’s even heard of thunder.

8 Dearest Lord, hear my prayer: send her on my lament,
Let it tell her of loving in the storm you sent,
Of how we braved the tempest, seized our chance.
And of love at first sight – how the lightning engraved
On my heart a small flower, I’ll bear it to the grave,
A sprig of rosemary, that’s for Love’s Remembrance.
Live rendition by Georges Brassens
Live rendition by Julien Clerc

Recording in English by Graeme Allwright

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 29 Nov 21 - 02:36 PM

Brassens had set his story on a thunderstorm night. This one is set during May 1968 riots
LA BÈLA DE MAI (1978 - Occitan)
Lyrics: Alain Sauzel (1943 - )
Music: Georges Brassens (1921-2021)

Parlatz-me de tambust, de trucs, de tarabast,
Pas de tranquilitat ni mai d’òrdre e de patz.
N’ai lo vòmit de la bonància.
Per que l’amor mai bèl qu’aguèssi conegut,
Lo recacèri un jorn que d’òmes blaus cascuts
Tustavan sus la populàcia.

Un ser del mes de mai, lo mond de mon quartièr,
Fòrças de l’òrdre, flics, estudiants, obrièrs,
Se clapavan sus la topina.
Ieu, lo morre al balcon, badavi tranquillet.
Ausiguèri subran a ma pòrta un tustet
Qu’aviá la votz de ma vesina.

"Dobrissètz-me, monsen, soi soleta e pauruga.
Mon òme m’a daissada, agafant sa maçuga,
-Caliá ben qu’aquò arribèsse-
Son casco, son bloquièr e son balha-la-mòrt
Per se’n anar, content, far son mestièr de pòrc
De sergent dins los C.R.S."

Grandmercejant lo temps d’aver virat al fuòc,
L’ai embraçada e puèi a començat lo jòc
De l’amor quora vos emmasca.
Paure piòt que cresiás aparar lo govèrn,
Al teu ostal auriás degut far ton devèr.
Quicòm deu conflar jos ton casco.

Los bramaires partits bramar endacòm mai,
A primalba calguèt que ma bèla de mai,
L’uèlh macat d’endeman de fièra,
De raca-còr se’n torne per sonhar son espós
Non sens m’aver promés un novèl rendètz-vos
Per un novèl passa-carrièra.

Esperant aquel jorn, me balhèri de mal
Per presicar al mond las grèvas, lo rambalh
E las fabricas ocupadas,
La batèsta, l’embolh, la cauma de la fam,
Los coctèls-molotòv, la tusta, lo çaganh,
Ailàs jamai non es tornada.

Son cocut aviá pres sul nas tant de pavats
Que de la siá patria aviá plan meritat
La retirada anticipada,
E se l’èra menada cap a’n cèl sempre blau,
Dins un país caluc ont jamai tres calhaus
Faràn pas una barricada.

Baste que ma cançon, per combas e per puègs,
Li anèsse contar que, dempuèi aquela nuèch,
Mon paure còr, confle de penas,
Morís de languison un pauc mai cada jorn
E qu’a pas ges besonh, per plorar son amor,
De granadas lacrimogenas.
THE MAY BEAUTY



Tell me about racket, clashes, uproar,
Not about tranquility, neither about order nor peace,
I'm fed up with quietness,
Because the finest love I ever knew,
I found it one day when helmeted men in blue
Were bashing the populace.

One May evening, the people from my neighborhood,
Forces of order, cops, students, workers
Were hitting on one another's head.
From my balcony, I was quietly looking
I suddenly heard a knock on my door
That had my neighbor's voice.

"Open me up, sir, I'm alone and scared,
My husband left me as he seized his bludgeon,
-This for sure had to happen-
His helmet, his shield and his "death-giver" (gun, I suppose)
To go, happy, to do his dirty job
As a sergeant in the riot squad (1).

Thanking the time/weather to have turned fiery,
I embraced her then the game of love
When it bewitches you, started.
Poor fool who thought you were protecting the government,
You should have done your duty at home.
Something must be swelling under your helmet (2).

Once the bawling crowd gone to bawl elsewhere,
At dawn, with dark-ringed eyes
Like on the day after a fair, my May beauty, reluctantly had
To go back to tend to her spouse
Not without promising me a new date
On a new demonstration.

Waiting/hoping for that day, I made big efforts
To preach everybody strikes, disorder
And occupied factories,
Battle, unrest, hunger strike,
Molotov cocktails, fight, disturbance,
Alas, she never came back.

Her cuckold had gotten so many cobblestones on his face (lit. nose)
That he'd well deserved an early retirement
From his country (lit. fatherland)
And he'd taken her to an ever-blue sky,
In a crazy country where three stones
Will never make a barricade.

May my song, out and about,
Go tell her that since that night,
My poor heart, swollen by grief,
Has been dying from nostalgia a little more with every day,
And that, to mourn her love,
It doesn't need tear grenades
(1) CRS (Compagnies Républicaines de Sécurité = Republican Security Corps) The CRS are a civilian corps trained in anti-insurrection and antiriot techniques.
(2)= You must be very big-headed.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 30 Nov 21 - 12:36 PM

Yesterday Debra Heller and her mother sang Ma'oz Tsur, in Hebrew.
מָעוֹז צוּר

מָעוֹז צוּר יְשׁוּעָתִי, לְךָ נָאֶה לְשַׁבֵּחַ
.תִּכּוֹן בֵּית תְּפִלָּתִי, וְשָׁם תּוֹדָה נְזַבֵּחַ
.לְעֵת תָּכִין מַטְבֵּחַ מִצָּר הַמְנַבֵּחַ
.אָז אֶגְמוֹר בְּשִׁיר מִזְמוֹר חֲנֻכַּת הַמִּזְבֵּחַ

רעוֹת שָׂבְעָה נַפְשִׁי, בְּיָגוֹן כֹּחִי כָּלָה
חַיַּי מֵרְרוּ בְקֹשִׁי, בְּשִׁעְבּוּד מַלְכוּת עֶגְלָה
וּבְיָדוֹ הַגְּדוֹלָה הוֹצִיא אֶת הַסְּגֻלָּה
.חֵיל פַּרְעֹה וְכָל זַרְעוֹ יָרְדוּ כְּאֶבֶן בִּמְצוּלָה

דבִיר קָדְשׁוֹ הֱבִיאַנִי, וְגַם שָׁם לֹא שָׁקַטְתִּי
וּבָא נוֹגֵשׂ וְהִגְלַנִי, כִּי זָרִים עָבַדְתִּי
וְיֵין רַעַל מָסַכְתִּי, כִּמְעַט שֶׁעָבַרְתִּי
.קֵץ בָּבֶל זְרֻבָּבֶל, לְקֵץ שִׁבְעִים נוֹשַׁעְתִּי

כרוֹת קוֹמַת בְּרוֹשׁ בִּקֵּשׁ, אֲגָגִי בֶּן הַמְּדָתָא
וְנִהְיָתָה לוֹ לְפַח וּלְמוֹקֵשׁ, וְגַאֲוָתוֹ נִשְׁבָּתָה
רֹאשׁ יְמִינִי נִשֵּׂאתָ, וְאוֹיֵב שְׁמוֹ מָחִיתָ
.רֹב בָּנָיו וְקִנְיָנָיו עַל הָעֵץ תָּלִיתָ

יוָנִים נִקְבְּצוּ עָלַי, אֲזַי בִּימֵי חַשְׁמַנִּים
וּפָרְצוּ חוֹמוֹת מִגְדָּלַי, וְטִמְּאוּ כָּל הַשְּׁמָנִים
וּמִנּוֹתַר קַנְקַנִּים נַעֲשָׂה נֵס לַשּׁוֹשַׁנִּים
.בְּנֵי בִינָה יְמֵי שְׁמוֹנָה קָבְעוּ שִׁיר וּרְנָנִים

חשׂוֹף זרוֹעַ קדְשֶׁךָ וְקָרֵב קֵץ הַיְשׁוּעָה
נְקֹם נִקְמַת עֲבָדֶיךָ מֵאֻמָּה הָרְשָׁעָה
כִּי אָרְכָה הַשָּׁעָה וְאֵין קֵץ לִימֵי הָרָעָה
.דְּחֵה אַדְמוֹן בְּצֵל צַלְמוֹן הָקֵם לָנוּ רוֹעִים שִׁבְעָה
ROMANIZATION


Ma'oz Tzur Yeshu'ati, lekha na'eh leshabe'ah.
Tikon beit tefilati, vesham toda nezabe'ah.
Le'et takhin matbe'ah mitzar hamnabe'ah.
Az egmor beshir mizmor hanukat hamizbe'ah.




Ra'ot save'ah nafshi, beyagon kohi kala.
Hayyai mereru vekoshi, beshi'abud malkhut egla.
Uvyado hagdola hotzi et hasgula.
Heil par'o vekhol zar'o yaredu ke'even bimtzula.




Dvir kodsho hevi'ani, vegam sham lo shakateti.
Uva noges vehiglani, ki zarim avadti.
Vyein ra'al masakhti, kim'at she'avarti.
Ketz Bavel Zerubavel, leketz shiv'im nosha'ati



Kerot komat berosh bikesh, Agagi ben Hamdatah.
veniheyata lo lefah ulemokesh, vega'avato nishbata.
Rosh yemini niseta, ve'oyev shmo mahita.
Rov banav vekinyanav al ha'etz talita.



Yevanim nikbetzu alai, azai bimei Hashmanim.
Ufartzu homot migdalai, vetim'u kol hashemanim.
Uminotar kankanim na'asa nes lashoshanim.
Bnei vina yemei shmona kav'u shir urenanim.




Hasof zroa kodshekha, vekarev ketz hayeshu'a.
Nkom nikmat dam avadeikha me'uma haresha'a.
Ki arkha hasha'a, ve'ein ketz limei hara'a.
Dkheh admon betzel tzalmon, hakem lanu ro'im shiv'a.
TRANSLATION

My Refuge, my Rock of Salvation! 'Tis pleasant to sing Your praises.
Let our house of prayer be restored. And there we will offer You our thanks.
When You will have slaughtered the barking foe.
Then we will celebrate with song and psalm the altar's dedication.

My soul was sated with misery, my strength was spent with grief.
They embittered my life with hardship, When enslaved under the rule of Egypt.
But God with His mighty power Brought out His treasured people;
While Pharaoh's host and followers Sank like a stone into the deep.

He brought me to His holy abode. Even there, I found no rest.
The oppressor came and exiled me, Because I served strange gods,
and drank poisonous wine. Yet scarcely had I gone into exile,
When Babylon fell and Zerubbabel took charge; Within seventy years I was saved.

The Agagite, son of Hammedatha, plotted to cut down the lofty fir;
But it proved a snare to him, and his insolence was silenced.
You raised the head of the Benjamite, but the enemy's name You blotted out.
His numerous sons and his household You hanged upon the gallows.

The Greeks gathered against me, in days of the Hasmoneans.
They broke down the walls of my towers, and defiled all the oils.
But from the last remaining flask a miracle was wrought for the Jews.
Therefore the sages of the day ordained these eight for songs of praise.

O bare Your holy arm and bring the end of salvation.
Wreak vengeance upon the wicked nation, On behalf of your faithful servants.
For deliverance has too long been delayed; And the evil days are endless.
O Reject the enemy into the shadows of idolatry, and set up for us the seven shepherds.

Everything above has been borrowed from Wikipedia

On this page in French you'll find 5 different renditions sung on different tunes.
Live rendition by Moshe Bergel
Live choir rendition by The Zamir Chorale & Zamir Noded. Composed by Benedetto Marcello and arranged by Hugo Chaim Adler, at Merkin Hall in 2019, conducted by Matthew Lazar.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English
From: Monique
Date: 30 Nov 21 - 01:00 PM

Joe Fineman sang Good King Wenceslas in Latin. He'd already posted the lyrics back in 2003.

Patty Clink sang "México lindo y querido. You'll find the lyrics on this Mudcat thread.


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