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 Betreff des Beitrags: Scottish Border Ballads
BeitragVerfasst: 9. Apr 2009, 20:50 
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Here is a moving ballad that I like a lot:



Zitat:
The Wife of Usher’s Well

There lived a wife at Usher's Well,
And a wealthy wife was she;
She had three stout and stalwart sons,
And sent them over the sea.

They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely ane,
Whan word came to the carline wife,
That her three sons were gane.

They hadna been a week from her,
A week but barely three,
Whan word came to the carlin wife
That her three sons were gone.

"I wish the wind may never cease,
Nor fashes in the flood,
Till my three sons come hame to me,
In earthly flesh and blood."

It befell about the Martinmass,
When nights are long and mirk,
The carlin wife's three sons came hame,
And their hats were o the birk.

It neither grew in syke nor ditch,
Nor yet in ony sheugh;
But at the gates o Paradise,
That birk grew fair enough

"Blow up the fire my maidens,
Bring water from the well;
For a' my house shall feast this night,
Since my three sons are well."

And she has made to them a bed,
She's made it large and wide,
And she's taen her mantle her about,
Sat down at the bed-side.

Up then crew the red, red, cock,
And up the crew the gray;
The eldest to the youngest said,
'Tis time we were away.

The cock he hadna crawed but once,
And clappd his wings at a',
When the youngest to the eldest said,
Brother, we must awa.

The cock doth craw, the day both daw,
The cahannerin worm doth chide;
Gin we be mist out o our place,
A sair pain we maun bide.

"Fare ye weel, my mother dear!
Fareweel to barn and byre!
And fare ye weel, the bonny lass
That kindles my mother's fire!"


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Plec'h moc'h hwi Brokilien, hunvreou pell a gevrin?


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BeitragVerfasst: 10. Apr 2009, 01:48 
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Here's another Border Ballad:

Zitat:
Johnie Armstrang

Sum speikis of lords, sum speikis of lairds,
And sic lyke men of hie degrie;
Of a gentleman I sing a sang,
Sum tyme call'd Laird of Gilnockie.

The King he wrytes a luving letter,
With his ain hand sae tenderly,
And he hath sent it to Johnie Armstrang,
To cum and speik with him speedily.

The Eliots and Armstrangs did convene;
They were a gallant cumpanie -
'We'll ride and meit our lawful King,
And bring him safe to Gilnockie.

'Make kinnen and capon ready, then,
And venison in great plentie;
We'll welcum here our royal King;
I hope he'll dine at Gilnockie!'

They ran their horse on the Langholme howm,
And brak their spears wi' mickle main;
The ladies lukit frae loft windows -
'God bring our men weel back agen!'

When Johnie cam before the King,
Wi' a' his men sae brave to see,
The King he movit his bonnet to him;
He ween'd he was a King as weel as he.

'May I find grace, my sovereign liege,
Grace for my loyal men and me?
For my name it is Johnie Armstrang,
And subject of yours, my liege,' said he.

'Away, away, thou traitor strang!
Out o' my sight soon mayst thou be!
I grantit nevir a traitor's life,
And now I'll not begin wi' thee.'

'Grant me my life, my liege, my King!
And a bonny gift I'll gie to thee -
Full four-and-twenty milk-white steids,
Were a' foaled in ae yeir to me.

'I'll gie thee a' these milk-white steids,
That prance and nicker at a speir;
And as mickle gude Inglish gilt,
As four of their braid backs dow bear.'

'Away, away, thou traitor strang!
Out o' my sight soon mayst thou be!
I grantit nevir a traitor's life,
And now I'll not begin wi' thee.'

'Grant me my life, my liege, my King!
And a bonny gift I'll gie to thee -
Gude four-and-twenty ganging mills,
That gang thro' a' yeir to me.

'These four-and-twenty mills complete,
Sall gang for thee thro' a' the yeir;
And as mickle of gude reid wheit,
As a' their happers dow to bear.'

'Away, away, thou traitor strang!
Out o' my sight soon mayst thou be!
I grantit nevir a traitor's life,
And now I'll not begin wi' thee.'

'Grant me my life, my liege, my King!
And a great gift I'll gie to thee -
Bauld four-and-twenty sisters' sons,
Sall for thee fecht, tho' a' should flee!'

'Away, away, thou traitor strang!
Out o' my sight soon mayst thou be!
I grantit nevir a traitor's life,
And now I'll no begin wi' thee.'

'Grant me my life, my liege, my King!
And a brave gift I'll gie to thee -
All between heir and Newcastle town
Sall pay their yearly rent to thee.'

'Away, away, thou traitor strang!
Out o' my sight soon mayst thou be!
I grantit nevir a traitor's life,
And now I'll no begin wi' thee.'

'Ye lied, ye lied, now, King,' he says,
'Altho' a King and Prince ye be!
For I've luved naething in my life,
I weel dare say it, but honesty -

'Save a fat horse, and a fair woman,
Twa bonny dogs to kill a deir;
But England suld have found me meal and mault,
Gif I had lived this hundred yeir!

'She suld have found me meal and mault,
And beif and mutton in a' plentie;
But nevir a Scots wyfe could have said,
That e'er I skaith'd her a pure flee.

'To seik het water beneith cauld ice,
Surely it is a greit folie -
I have asked grace at a graceless face,
But there is nane for my men and me!

'But, had I kenn'd ere I cam frae hame,
How thou unkind wadst been to me!
I wad have keepit the Border syde,
In spite of all thy force and thee.

'Wist England's King that I was ta'en,
O gin a blythe man he wad be!
For anes I slew his sister's son,
And on his breist bane brak a trie.'

John wore a girdle about his middle,
Imbroidered ower wi' burning gold,
Bespangled wi' the same metal;
Maist beautiful was to behold.

There hang nine targats at Johnie's hat,
And ilk ane worth three hundred pound -
'What wants that knave that a King suld have,
But the sword of honour and the crown!

'O whair got thou these targats, Johnie,
That blink sae brawly abune thy brie?'
'I gat them in the field fetching,
Where, cruel King, thou durst not be.

'Had I my horse, and harness gude,
And riding as I wont to be,
It suld have been tauld this hundred yeir,
The meeting of my King and me!

'God be with thee, Kirsty, my brother!
Lang live thou Laird of Mangertoun!
Lang mayst thou live on the Border syde,
Ere thou see thy brother ride up and down!

'And God be with thee, Kirsty, my son,
Where thou sits on thy nurse's knee!
But and thou live this hundred yeir,
Thy father's better thou'lt nevir be.

'Farewell! my bonny Gilnock hall,
Where on Esk side thou standest stout!
Gif I had lived but seven yeirs mair,
I wad hae gilt thee round about.'

Joh murdered was at Carlinrigg,
And all his gallant cumpanie;
But Scotland's heart was ne'er sae wae,
To see sae mony brave men die -

The trees on which the Armstrangs deed
Wi' summer leaves were gay,
But lang afore the harvest tide,
They wither'd a' away.

Because they saved their countrey deir
Frae Englishmen! Nane were sae bauld,
While Johnie lived on the Border syde,
Nane of them durst cum neir his hauld.


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BeitragVerfasst: 10. Apr 2009, 07:53 
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Pirate-Jenny hat geschrieben:

Sum speikis of lords, sum speikis of lairds,
And sic lyke men of hie degrie;
Of a gentleman I sing a sang,
Sum tyme call'd Laird of Gilnockie.


And wha' speikis or singis of Waldbaum, the Laird of Glencairn? :)

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Plec'h moc'h hwi Brokilien, hunvreou pell a gevrin?


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BeitragVerfasst: 13. Apr 2009, 10:20 
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Robert Burns used to speik of the Laird of Glencairn. They were great friends, and both freemasons. :knuddel


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BeitragVerfasst: 13. Apr 2009, 10:40 
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By the way, is Burns' "Tam O'Shanter" written in the tradition of the Scottish Border Ballads?

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BeitragVerfasst: 13. Apr 2009, 11:29 
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Pirate-Jenny hat geschrieben:
By the way, is Burns' "Tam O'Shanter" written in the tradition of the Scottish Border Ballads?

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In any case it is written in Scots. :torte

Andy hat geschrieben:
Robert Burns used to speik of the Laird of Glencairn. They were great friends, and both freemasons. :knuddel


That reminds me: I must send an e-mail to the Karlsruhe freemasons! :)

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Plec'h moc'h hwi Brokilien, hunvreou pell a gevrin?


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BeitragVerfasst: 13. Apr 2009, 11:44 
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Long live the free masons!
Freedom shall never die!


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BeitragVerfasst: 13. Apr 2009, 15:53 
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Pirate-Jenny hat geschrieben:
Long live the free masons!


I sent the masons a friendly mail
I hope it is to some avail.

:)

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Plec'h moc'h hwi, Brokilien, Vivian ha Merzin?
Plec'h moc'h hwi Brokilien, hunvreou pell a gevrin?


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 Betreff des Beitrags: Re: Scottish Border Ballads
BeitragVerfasst: 1. Dez 2011, 22:49 
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And here is a part of another famous Scottish ballad:

Zitat:
6: 'Come open the door Lord Gregory,
Come open and let me in,
For the rain it falls on my bonnie yeller hair,
And the dew falls on your young son.'

7: 'Oh whether ye be the Queen hersel,
Or ane o her Maries three,
Or are ye the lass o Lochan Rhyne
Seeking Lord Gregory.'

8: 'Oh I am not the Queen hersel,
Nor ane o her Maries three,
But I am the lass o Lochan Ryne
Seeking Lord Gregory.'

9: 'Gin ye be the lass o Lochan Rhyne,
Banished from kith and kin,
Then tell me the first token of our love,
Before I let you in.'

10: 'Oh dae ye mind, Lord Gregory,
When we drank at the wine?
We changed the rings on our fingers,
And aye the best was mine.'


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 Betreff des Beitrags: Re: Scottish Border Ballads
BeitragVerfasst: 14. Dez 2017, 23:35 
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And here you can hear the old ballad: Lord Gregory

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Plec'h moc'h hwi Brokilien, hunvreou pell a gevrin?


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