POPULAR SONGS.
The Parsley Vendor.
This morning as the golden sunWas rising, pretty maid,I saw you in the gardenBending o’er the parsley bed.To see you somewhat nearerThrough the garden gate I strayed,And found when I went out againI’d lost my heart, sweet maid.You must have come across it,For I lost it there, I say.“Oh, pretty parsley maiden,Give back my heart, I pray.”
This morning as the golden sunWas rising, pretty maid,I saw you in the gardenBending o’er the parsley bed.To see you somewhat nearerThrough the garden gate I strayed,And found when I went out againI’d lost my heart, sweet maid.You must have come across it,For I lost it there, I say.“Oh, pretty parsley maiden,Give back my heart, I pray.”
This morning as the golden sunWas rising, pretty maid,I saw you in the gardenBending o’er the parsley bed.To see you somewhat nearerThrough the garden gate I strayed,And found when I went out againI’d lost my heart, sweet maid.You must have come across it,For I lost it there, I say.“Oh, pretty parsley maiden,Give back my heart, I pray.”
This morning as the golden sun
Was rising, pretty maid,
I saw you in the garden
Bending o’er the parsley bed.
To see you somewhat nearer
Through the garden gate I strayed,
And found when I went out again
I’d lost my heart, sweet maid.
You must have come across it,
For I lost it there, I say.
“Oh, pretty parsley maiden,
Give back my heart, I pray.”
A. Trueba, 1819-1889.
Petenera.
When He made thee those black lashesGod, no doubt, would give thee warningThat for all the deaths thou causest,Thou must put thyself in mourning.
When He made thee those black lashesGod, no doubt, would give thee warningThat for all the deaths thou causest,Thou must put thyself in mourning.
When He made thee those black lashesGod, no doubt, would give thee warningThat for all the deaths thou causest,Thou must put thyself in mourning.
When He made thee those black lashes
God, no doubt, would give thee warning
That for all the deaths thou causest,
Thou must put thyself in mourning.
(Trans. A. Strettel.)
Alcaldè măyòr, Alcaldè măyòr,You sentence poor prisoners for theft,While your daughter walks out with her black eyes,And robs all our hearts right and left.
Alcaldè măyòr, Alcaldè măyòr,You sentence poor prisoners for theft,While your daughter walks out with her black eyes,And robs all our hearts right and left.
Alcaldè măyòr, Alcaldè măyòr,You sentence poor prisoners for theft,While your daughter walks out with her black eyes,And robs all our hearts right and left.
Alcaldè măyòr, Alcaldè măyòr,
You sentence poor prisoners for theft,
While your daughter walks out with her black eyes,
And robs all our hearts right and left.
La Granadina.
Some tears, my pretty maiden,If only two or three,And the goldsmiths of GranàdaShall set them as jewels for me.They tell me that you love me,But ’tis a falsehood bold;So circumscribed a bosomCould never two hearts hold.As I carelessly openedYour letter, my dear,Your heart dropp’d out,Into my bosom, I fear,So I took it in; butAs there’s no room for two,I have taken out mine,Which I now send to you.
Some tears, my pretty maiden,If only two or three,And the goldsmiths of GranàdaShall set them as jewels for me.They tell me that you love me,But ’tis a falsehood bold;So circumscribed a bosomCould never two hearts hold.As I carelessly openedYour letter, my dear,Your heart dropp’d out,Into my bosom, I fear,So I took it in; butAs there’s no room for two,I have taken out mine,Which I now send to you.
Some tears, my pretty maiden,If only two or three,And the goldsmiths of GranàdaShall set them as jewels for me.
Some tears, my pretty maiden,
If only two or three,
And the goldsmiths of Granàda
Shall set them as jewels for me.
They tell me that you love me,But ’tis a falsehood bold;So circumscribed a bosomCould never two hearts hold.
They tell me that you love me,
But ’tis a falsehood bold;
So circumscribed a bosom
Could never two hearts hold.
As I carelessly openedYour letter, my dear,Your heart dropp’d out,Into my bosom, I fear,So I took it in; butAs there’s no room for two,I have taken out mine,Which I now send to you.
As I carelessly opened
Your letter, my dear,
Your heart dropp’d out,
Into my bosom, I fear,
So I took it in; but
As there’s no room for two,
I have taken out mine,
Which I now send to you.
Bolero.
I saw two stonesFight in your streetFor the joy of being troddenUnder your feet;And I ponder’d then.If the stones do this,Oh, what will men?
I saw two stonesFight in your streetFor the joy of being troddenUnder your feet;And I ponder’d then.If the stones do this,Oh, what will men?
I saw two stonesFight in your streetFor the joy of being troddenUnder your feet;And I ponder’d then.If the stones do this,Oh, what will men?
I saw two stones
Fight in your street
For the joy of being trodden
Under your feet;
And I ponder’d then.
If the stones do this,
Oh, what will men?
Bolero.
A favour, Blacksmith,I ask of you;Pray make me a loverOf steel so true.And this is what he replies to meIt can’t be very trueIf a man it’s to be.
A favour, Blacksmith,I ask of you;Pray make me a loverOf steel so true.And this is what he replies to meIt can’t be very trueIf a man it’s to be.
A favour, Blacksmith,I ask of you;Pray make me a loverOf steel so true.And this is what he replies to meIt can’t be very trueIf a man it’s to be.
A favour, Blacksmith,
I ask of you;
Pray make me a lover
Of steel so true.
And this is what he replies to me
It can’t be very true
If a man it’s to be.
As we know, God made man first,And afterwards the womenstock;First of all the tower is built.But last of all the weather-cock.
As we know, God made man first,And afterwards the womenstock;First of all the tower is built.But last of all the weather-cock.
As we know, God made man first,And afterwards the womenstock;First of all the tower is built.But last of all the weather-cock.
As we know, God made man first,
And afterwards the womenstock;
First of all the tower is built.
But last of all the weather-cock.
May the Lord God preserve us from evil birds three,From all friars, and curates, and sparrows that be;For the sparrows eat up all the corn that we sow,The friars drink down all the wine that we grow,Whilst the curates have all the fair dames at their nod:From these three evil curses preserve us, good God.
May the Lord God preserve us from evil birds three,From all friars, and curates, and sparrows that be;For the sparrows eat up all the corn that we sow,The friars drink down all the wine that we grow,Whilst the curates have all the fair dames at their nod:From these three evil curses preserve us, good God.
May the Lord God preserve us from evil birds three,From all friars, and curates, and sparrows that be;For the sparrows eat up all the corn that we sow,The friars drink down all the wine that we grow,Whilst the curates have all the fair dames at their nod:From these three evil curses preserve us, good God.
May the Lord God preserve us from evil birds three,
From all friars, and curates, and sparrows that be;
For the sparrows eat up all the corn that we sow,
The friars drink down all the wine that we grow,
Whilst the curates have all the fair dames at their nod:
From these three evil curses preserve us, good God.
(Trans. G. Borrow.)