Békání

[Ronšperk]

Na turnaji jsme se v sobotu večer sešli v hojnějším počtu a neskutečně dobře jsme si zazpívali. Kain, Pope, Judita....a mnoho jiných, jejichž tvář halila tma. Jediný problém, který jsme měli byl repertoár. Nějak jsme z těží hledali společné písně. Jak jsem slíbil zakládám nové téma. Postujte sem písničky a texty které umíte a zpíváte. Co neznáme se doučíme a na akcích, jako tato si můžem nádherně zpříjemnit večer.
Není nutné přímo dochované texty, ale alespoň tématické by to být mělo. Ať to v tom středověkém táboře není, jako pěst na oko.

[Ronšperk]

A hned první pošlu.
Dva havrany od Assonance asi zná každý, ale co druhou část? Mnoho lidí už ji po mě chtělo.
A já jsem teď po letech zjistil, že i já ji vlastně ještě nezpívám celou. Tak že zde je text celý. Nápěv je stejný, jako u havranů.

Kde voda láme kamení
Na písek skály promění
A cestu černé houští skrývá
Je slyšet dívku jak si zpívá
Na širou louku rosa padala
A já mu v slzách šátkem mávala
Dnes už je tma a v noci sněží
A kdopak ví kde v zemi leží
Až jeho bílé kosti práchniví
Tak tvoje černé vlasy zšediví
Za lesem havrani se snáší
A svými křídly slunce zháší
Až dlouhé roky vrásky vyryjí
Vzpomínky dávné zase ožijí
Napřed jinému budeš dána
Zamčena v kleci svého pána
Noc černá na krajinu usedá
Dívka už mlčí šátek nezvedá
Pod skálou chladná voda pění
A nocí bloudí opuštění

[Hawkwind]

Naprosto strašný.

J.

[Hawkwind]

Mnohem lepší:

The Witch of the West-Mer-Lands

The Witch of the West-Mer-Lands
(Archie Fisher)

G C / G C / G Am / C D7 /

Pale was the wounded knight
That bore the rowan shield
Loud and cruel were the raven's cries
That feasted on the field, saying:

Beck water, cold and clear,
Will never clean you wound.
There's none but the Maid of the Winding mere
Can make thee hale and soond.

So course well, my brindled hounds,
And fetch me the mountain hare
Whose coat is a grey as the Wastwater
Or as white as the lily fair, who said

Green moss and heather bands
Will never staunch the flood.
There's none but the Witch of the West-mer-lands
Can save thy dear life's blood.

So turn, turn you stallion's head
Till his red mane flies in the wind
And the rider of the moon gaes by
And the bright star falls behind.

And clear was the paley moon
When his shadow passed him by;
Below the hill was the brightest star
When he heard the houlet cry, saying

Why do you ride this way,
And wharfore cam' ye here?
I seek the Witch of the West-mer-lands
That dwells by the winding mere.

Then fly free your good grey hawk
To gather the golden rod,
And face your horse into the clouds
Above yon gay green wood.

And it's weary by Ullswater
And the misty brake fern way
Till through the cleft o' the Kirkstane Pass
The winding water lay.

He said, Lie down, my brindled hound,
And rest my good grey hawk,
And thee, my steed, may graze thy fill,
For I must dismount and walk.

But come when you hear my horn
And answer swift the call,
For I fear e'er the sun shall rise this morn
You will serve me best of all.

And down to the water's brim
He's borne the rowan shield,
And the golden rod he has cast in
To see what the lake might yield.

And wet rose she from the lake,
And fast and fleet gaed she,
One half the form of a maiden fair
With a jet black mare's body.

And loud, long, and shrill he blew
And his steed was by his side;
High overhead his grey hawk flew
And swiftly he did ride, saying:

Course well, my brindled hounds,
And fetch me the jet black mare.
Stoop and strike, my good grey hawk,
And bring me the maiden fair. She said:

Pray sheath thy silvery sword,
Lay down thy rowan shield,
For I see by the briny blood that flows
You've been wounded in the field.

And she stood in a gown of the velvet blue,
Bound 'round with a silver chain.
She's kissed his pale lips aince and twice
And three time 'round again.

And she's bound his wound with the golden rod;
Full fast in her arms he lay,
And he has risen hale and soond
Wi' the sun high in the day. She said:

Ride with you brindled hounds at heel
And your good grey hawk in hand.
There's nane can harm a knight wha's lain
With the Witch of the West-mer-land.

[Hawkwind]

Send "Barrett's Privateers" ringtone to your cell
Oh, the year was 1778, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
A letter of marque came from the king,
To the scummiest vessel I'd ever seen,

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

Oh, Elcid Barrett cried the town, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
For twenty brave men all fishermen who
would make for him the Antelope's crew

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

The Antelope sloop was a sickening sight,HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
She'd a list to the port and her sails in rags
And the cook in scuppers with the staggers and the jags

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

On the King's birthday we put to sea, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
We were 91 days to Montego Bay
Pumping like madmen all the way

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

On the 96th day we sailed again, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
When a bloody great Yankee hove in sight
With our cracked four pounders we made to fight

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

The Yankee lay low down with gold, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
She was broad and fat and loose in the stays
But to catch her took the Antelope two whole days

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

Then at length we stood two cables away, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
Our cracked four pounders made an awful din
But with one fat ball the Yank stove us in

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

The Antelope shook and pitched on her side, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
Barrett was smashed like a bowl of eggs
And the Maintruck carried off both me legs

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

So here I lay in my 23rd year, HOW I WISH I WAS IN SHERBROOKE NOW!
It's been 6 years since we sailed away
And I just made Halifax yesterday

God damn them all!
I was told we'd cruise the seas for American gold
We'd fire no guns-shed no tears
Now I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.

[Hawkwind]

The Mary Ellen Carter

She went down last October in the pouring, driving rain.
The skipper he’d been drinking and the mate he felt no pain.
Too close to Three Mile Rock and she was dealt her mortal blow
And the Marry Ellen Carter sitting low.

There was just us five aboard her when she finally was a-wash.
We worked like hell to save her all heedless of the cost.
And the groan she gave as she went down, it caused us to proclaim
That the Mary Ellen Carter’d rise again.

Well, the owners wrote her off, not a nickel would they spend.
"She gave twenty years of service, boys, and met her sorry end.
But insurance paid the loss to us, so let her rest below,"
They laughed at us and said we’d have to go.

But we talked of her all winter, some days around the clock,
She’s worth a quarter million, a-floating at the dock.
And with every jar that hit the bar we swore we would remain
And watch the Mary Ellen Carter rise again.

Chorus:
Rise again, rise again,
Let her name not be lost to the knowledge of men
For those who loved her best and were with her to the end,
We’ll make the Mary Ellen Cater, rise again.

All spring, now, we’ve been with her on a barge lent by a friend.
Three dives a day in a hard hat suit and twice I’ve had the bends.
Thank God it’s only sixty feet and the currents here are slow
Or I’d never have the strength to go below.

But we’ve patched her rents, and stopped her vents,
dogged hatch and porthole down
Put cables to her fore and aft and girded her around;
And tomorrow, noon, we hit the air and then take up the strain
And watch the Mary Ellen Carter rise again.

Chorus

For we couldn’t leave her there, you see, to crumble into scale.
She’d saved our lives so many times, living through the gale;
And the laughing, drunken rats who left her to a sorry grave,
They won’t be laughing in another day.

And you, to whom adversity has dealt that final blow,
With smiling bastards lying to you everywhere you go
Turn to and put out all your strength of arm and heart and brain
And like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again!

Last Chorus 2x
Rise again, rise again,
Thou your heart, it be broken, your life about to end,
No matter what you’ve lost, be it a home, a love, a friend,
Be like the Mary Ellen Carter:
RISE AGAIN!

[Hawkwind]

Northwest Passage
(Stan Rogers)
Cho: Ah, for just one time I would take the Northwest Passage
To find the hand of Franklin reaching for the Beaufort Sea;
Tracing one warm line through a land so wild and savage
And make a Northwest Passage to the sea.
Westward from the Davis Strait 'tis there 'twas said to lie
The sea route to the Orient for which so many died;
Seeking gold and glory, leaving weathered, broken bones
And a long-forgotten lonely cairn of stones.
Three centuries thereafter, I take passage overland
In the footsteps of brave Kelso, where his "sea of flowers" began
Watching cities rise before me, then behind me sink again
This tardiest explorer, driving hard across the plain.
And through the night, behind the wheel, the mileage clicking west
I think upon Mackenzie, David Thompson and the rest
Who cracked the mountain ramparts and did show a path for me
To race the roaring Fraser to the sea.
How then am I so different from the first men through this way?
Like them, I left a settled life, I threw it all away.
To seek a Northwest Passage at the call of many men
To find there but the road back home again.

[Hawkwind]

Ej ty Ojcze Atamane!


a E E7 a
Ej ty ojcze atamanie, Ukraina śpi w najlepsze,
a E E7 a
Śpią sokoły na kurhanie i stanęła woda w Dnieprze.
C G G7 E
Koń już ledwo nogi wlecze, człek tak żyje a nie żyje.
a E E7 G
Czas nie płynie ale ciecze, gdzieś w limanie czajka ginie.


a a E7 a
Wyhowskiego szablą krzywą mała bawi się dziecina.
a E E7 a
Ty, kozacze, śpisz leniwie, płacze matka Ukraina.
C G G7 E
Skowroneczek strzepnął piórka, gdzieś na stepie orzeł kracze
a E E7 G
Rwie się pardwa i przepiórka, a ty jeno śpisz, kozacze.


a E E7 a
Ej, ty ojcze atamanie, niech przed tobą się użalę,
a E E7 a
Jak tak dłużej pozostanie, to chatynkę swoją spalę,
C G G7 E
Spisy w drobne drzazgi złamię, szablę rzuce na dno morza.
a E E7 a
Sam się skryję gdzieś w kurhanie, w dzikim stepie Zaporoża.

[Ronšperk]

Hawku, tohle si zaspívají maximálně angličtináři. Těch asi nebude tolik. Držme se prosím mateřštiny.
Podobné texty ta tady budou akorát spamovat

[Hawkwind]

Cruel War

The Cruel War is raging, Johnny has to fight
I want to be with him from morning to night.
I want to be with him, it grieves my heart so,
Won't you let me go with you?
No, my love, no.

Tomorrow is Sunday, Monday is the day
That your Captain will call you and you must obey.
Your captain will call you it grieves my heart so,
Won't you let me go with you?
No, my love, no.

I'll tie back my hair, men's clothing I'll put on,
I'll pass as your comrade, as we march along.
I'll pass as your comrade, no one will ever know.
Won't you let me go with you?
No, my love, no.

Oh Johnny, oh Johnny, I fear you are unkind
I love you far better than all of mankind.
I love you far better than words can e're express
Won't you let me go with you?
Yes, my love, yes.

Yes, My Love, Yes.

[Hawkwind]

Já když slyším špatné překlady právě těchhle písniček například z pera takové assonance, tak se mi otvírá kudla v kapse.

[Ronšperk]

To je úděl těch co znají a rozumí originálu. Když budeš ovšem chtít zpívat origo. Budeš asi sám. Ať chceš nebo ne Assonance je populární v našich končinách, stejně tak Klíč, Ginevra, Jauvajs........a co já vím kdo ještě. Jen pro to, že ty príma melodie si můžem zabékat všichni a ne jen lingvisticky vybavení.

[Maršálek]

Tohle mi taky chybí, podívám se po nějakých textech

[Palpatine]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G1LMRBW5ZFk kdo neumí bretoňsky má to tam francouzsky nebo anglicky


http://peregrin.eu/hudba/13-Veris_Dulcis.mp3
VERIS DULCIS IN TEMPORE
Veris dulcis in tempore
florenti stat sub arbore
Iuliana cum sorore.
Dulcis amor!
Qui te caret hoc tempore
Fit vilior.

Ecce florescunt arbores
lascive canunt volucres
inde tepescunt virgines.
Dulcis amor!
Qui te caret hoc tempore
Fit vilior.

Ecce florescunt lilia,
et virginum dant agmina
summo deorum carmina.
Dulcis amor!
Qui te caret hoc tempore,
Fit vilior.

Si tenerem, quam cupio,
in nemore sub folio,
oscularer cum gaudio.
Dulcis amor!
Qui te caret hoc tempore
Fit vilior.

[Ronšperk]

No jsem zvědav kolik lidí se tohle naučí a kolik z nich to bude pro svou zábavu v pozdních hodinách pět.
Pro podobné texty by se mohlo založit vlákno přímo v historické části fora.