Recently recorded, this is truly charming. Walcott is 80 years old.
Axé.
Category Archives: Songs
De la musique pour le weekend: Joaquín Díaz
Lazarillo de Tormes’ sister could have sung this next song, so it is very interesting despite the somewhat turgid images that accompany it.
Axé.
Pastora Pavón
I am working a festival this weekend so I leave you with this. Vous-autres, bourgeois de la vie maigre: lisez votre Robert Boice et portez-vous bien; some of us have duende.
Axé.
Mtukudzi
I will be part of this person’s gig and it will be happening by the time this post goes up. Eh toi, nous nous voyons en ville.
Axé.
Filed under Songs
Thomas Morley
A madrigal from 1594: April is in my mistress’ face, / And July in her eyes hath place. . . . This is a very good ensemble, and you should listen to the recording.
Axé.
Filed under Songs
Clément Janequin
Here is a May song, well sung. Listen to what appear to be period accents.
La casa de Bernarda Alba is a May play. Rowdy youth spends the night and part of the day out gathering flowers, and Adela wears a green dress.
Maypoles are remnants of ancient tree-worship. What else do we know about May?
Axé.
De la musique pour le weekend — et quelque chose pour épater
I had a conversation with a dean — a dean! of a unit in another school at the university who said the entire place is a hostile working environment. It is a good time to be studying the rhetoric of the Maréchal because we are Vichy State.
Axé.
Casida de las palomas oscuras
On the laurel branches I saw two dark doves. One was the sun; the other, the moon. Little neighbor, I asked, where is my grave? In my tail, said the sun; in my throat, said the moon…. One was the other and both were none.
Por las ramas del laurel
vi dos palomas oscuras.
La una era el sol,
la otra la luna.
«Vecinita», les dije,
«¿dónde está mi sepultura?»
«En mi cola», dijo el sol.
«En mi garganta», dijo la luna.
Y yo que estaba caminando
con la tierra por la cintura
vi dos águilas de nieve
y una muchacha desnuda.
La una era la otra
y la muchacha era ninguna.
«Aguilitas», les dije,
«¿dónde está mi sepultura?»
«En mi cola», dijo el sol.
«En mi garganta», dijo la luna.
Por las ramas del laurel
vi dos palomas desnudas.
La una era la otra
y las dos eran ninguna.–F.G.L.
Axé.
