#ballad

girlofthesea@diasporasocial.net

#music #bluegrass #ballad
A great, old murder ballad. The song has been covered by many musicians and singers.
Rose Connely ~ Down By The Willow Garden
Charlie Monroe
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ZGj7m2bcJ4
Despite the many different spellings of Rose’s surname — Connoley, Conley, Connally, Condolee, Connilley, Condelee, Congalee, Cumberly, or Caudeley – the song’s lyrics haven’t altered all that much over time. It was likely written back in the 19th century, possibly as early as 1811. Documented in 1915 by songcatcher Cecil Sharp during his travels throughout Virginia and North Carolina, it was first recorded for the Victor Talking Machine Company sometime in either 1927 or 1928 by G.B. Grayson and Henry Whittier.
- "Down in the Willow Garden", also known as "Rose Connelly" is a traditional Appalachian murder ballad about a man facing the gallows for the murder of his lover: he gave her poisoned wine, stabbed her, and threw her in a river - for insurance money.

psych@diasp.org

iChing/algorithm gods

Tasty ballad, lovely instrumentation and divine voice... #ballad #folk #jazz #music #musica #musique #Pentangle

## A Maid That's Deep in Love

Song by Pentangle

I am a maid that's deep in love
But yes I can complain
I have in this world but one true love
And Jimmy is his name
And if I do not find my love
I'll mourn most constantly
And I'll find and follow Jimmy thro'
The lands of liberty
Then I'll cut off my yellow hair
Men's clothing I'll wear on
I'll sign to a bold sea captain
My passage I'll work free
And I'll find and follow Jimmy thro'
The lands of liberty
One night upon the raging sea
As we were going to bed
The captain cried "Farewell my boy,
I wish you were a maid
Your rosy cheeks, your ruby lips
They are enticing me
And I wish dear God with all my heart
A maid you were to me"
"Then hold your tongue, dear captain
Such talk is all in vain
And if the sailors find it out
They'll laugh and make much game
For when we reach Columbia shore
Some prettier girls you'll find
And you'll laugh and sing and court with them
For courting you are inclined"
It was no three days after
Our ship it reached the shore
"Adieu my loving captain
Adieu for evermore
For once I was a sailor on sea
But now I am a maid on the shore
So adieu to you and all your crew
With you I'll sail no more"
"Come back, come back, my own pretty maid
Come back and marry me
I have ten thousand pounds in gold
And that I'll give to thee
So come back, come back, my own pretty maid
Come back and marry me" (:

lmsvater@friendica.a-zwenkau.de

Erlkönig - Illustration von Moritz von Schwind zur Ballade von Goethe.

https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erlk%C3%B6nig_(Ballade)
Literary translations of the ballad are available on the English, French, Kurdish, Spanish and Dutch Wikipedia pages.


Moritz von Schwind (1804–1871), Public Domain

Erlkönig

Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind?
Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind;
Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm,
Er fasst ihn sicher, er hält ihn warm.

Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht? –
Siehst, Vater, du den Erlkönig nicht?
Den Erlenkönig mit Kron’ und Schweif? –
Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif. –

„Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir!
Gar schöne Spiele spiel’ ich mit dir;
Manch’ bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand,
Meine Mutter hat manch gülden Gewand.“ –

Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht,
Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht? –
Sei ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind;
In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind. –

„Willst, feiner Knabe, du mit mir gehn?
Meine Töchter sollen dich warten schön;
Meine Töchter führen den nächtlichen Reihn
Und wiegen und tanzen und singen dich ein.“ –

Mein Vater, mein Vater, und siehst du nicht dort
Erlkönigs Töchter am düstern Ort? –
Mein Sohn, mein Sohn, ich seh’ es genau:
Es scheinen die alten Weiden so grau. –

„Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schöne Gestalt;
Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch’ ich Gewalt.“ –
Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt fasst er mich an!
Erlkönig hat mir ein Leids getan! –

Dem Vater grauset’s; er reitet geschwind,
Er hält in den Armen das ächzende Kind,
Erreicht den Hof mit Mühe und Not;
In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.

#Erlkönig, #Goethe, #MoritzvonSchwind, #Literatur, #literature, #Ballade, #ballad, #Gedicht, #poem, #Gemälde, #painting, #Kunst, #art

psych@diasp.org

Sort of an epic ballad/ode I think... with a personal tale, imagery, & history. Plus steel guitar.
Shared by a friend in Germany/DE, who grew up in this era, and imagining how much of this may ring true.
In terms of context, post World War, and other universal themes, like starting a rock band... Tnx, Netwitch

The Decemberists: My Mother Was a Chinese Trapeze Artist

"My Mother Was A Chinese Trapeze Artist"

My mother was a Chinese trapeze artist
In pre-war Paris
Smuggling bombs for the underground.
And she met my father
At a fete in Aix-en-Provence.
He was disguised as a Russian cadet
in the employ of the Axis.
And there in the half-light
Of the provincial midnight
To a lone concertina
They drank in cantinas
And toasted to Edith Piaf
And the fall of the Reich.

My sister was born in a hovel in Burgundy
And left for the cattle
But later was found by a communist
Who'd deserted his ranks
To follow his dream
To start up a punk rock band in South Carolina.
I get letters sometimes.
They bought a plantation
She weeds the tobacco
He offends the nation
And they write, "Don't be a stranger, y'hear."
"Sincerely, your sister."

So my parents had me
To the disgust of the prostitutes
On a bed in a brothel.
Surprisingly raised with tender care
'Til the money got tight
And they bet me away
To a blind brigadier in a game
Of high stakes canasta.
But he made me a sailor
On his brigadier ship fleet.
I know every yardarm
From main mast to jib sheet.
But sometimes I long to be landlocked
And to work in a bakery.

#music #musica #musique #musik #Decemberists #ChineseTrapezeArtist #ballad (À la Leonard Cohen a bit, methinks)