volgend concert / nieuwste cd

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ENGLISH

English Folk Song

I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger
a-traveling through, this world of woe.
But there's no sickness, toil nor danger,
In that fair land to which I go.
I'm going there to see my father,
I'm going there no more to roam.
I'm just a-going over Jordan,
I'm just a-going over home.

Irish Anthem — Lyrics: Frederic Weatherly 1910

Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side.
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying,
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow,
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow.
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

And if ye come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be,
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warmer, sweeter be,
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

English Traditional

There were three brothers in merry Scotland,
In merry Scotland there were three,
And they did cast lots which of them should go,
should go, should go,
And turn robber all on the salt sea.

The lot it fell first upon Henry Martin,
The youngest of all the three;
That he should turn robber all on the salt sea,
Salt sea, salt sea,
For to maintain his two brothers and he.

He had not been sailing but long winter's night
And part of a short winter's day,
Before he espied a stout lofty ship,
lofty ship, lofty ship,
Come a-bibbin’ down on him straight way.

Hello! Hello! cried Henry Martin,
What makes you sail so nigh?
I'm a rich merchant ship bound for fair London Town,
London Town, London Town
Will you please for to let me pass by?

Oh no! Oh no! cried Henry Martin,
That thing it never could be,
For I am turned pirate all on the salt sea
Salt sea, salt sea,
For to maintain my two brothers and me.
Come lower your topsail and bow down your mizzen
And bring your ship under my lee,
Or I will give you a full flowing ball,
flowing ball, flowing ball,
And your dear bodies drown in the salt sea.

With broadside and broadside and that it they went
For fully two hours or three,
Till Henry Martin gave to her the death shot,
the death shot, the death shot,
And straight to the bottom went she.

Bad news, bad news to old England came,
Bad news for fair London Town,
There's been a rich vessel and she's cast away,
cast away, cast away,
And all of her merry men drowned.

Welsh Folk Song — Lyrics: John Ceiriog Hughes

Sleep, my love, and peace attend thee
All through the night.
Guardian angels God will lend thee
All through the night.
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and dale in slumber steeping.
Love alone his watch is keeping
All through the night.

Though I roam a minstrel lonely
All through the night,
My true harp shall praise thee only
All through the night.
Love's young dream, alas, is over;
Yet my strains of love shall hover
Near the presence of my lover,
All through the night.

Hark, a solemn bell is ringing
Clear through the night.
Thou, my love, art heavenward winging
Home through the night.
Earthly dust from off thee shaken,
Soul immortal thou shalt waken
With thy last dim journey taken
Home through the night.

English Folk Song (True Lover’s Farewell)

Fare you well, my dear, I must be gone,
And leave you for a while;
If I roam away I'll come back again,
Though I roam ten thousand miles, my dear,
Though I roam ten thousand miles.

As fair thou art, my bonny lass,
So deep in love am I;
But I never will prove false to the pretty girl I love,
Till the stars fall from the sky, my dear,
Till the stars fall from the sky.

O yonder doth sit that little turtle dove,
He doth sit on yonder high tree,
A-making a moan for the loss of his love,
As I will do for thee, my dear,
As I will do for thee.

Scottish Traditional — Lyrics: James Hogg (1770 - 1835)

‘t Was on a Monday morning,
Right early in the year,
When Charlie came to our town,
The young Chevalier.

Chorus:
Oh! Charlie is my darling,
My darling, my darling,
Charlie is my darling,
The young Chevalier.

As he came marching up the street,
The pipes played loud and clear,
And a' the folks came runnin’ out
To meet the Chevalier.

Chorus

With Highland bonnets on their heads
And claymores bright and clear
They came to fight for Scotland's right,
And the young Chevalier.

Chorus

Oh, there were many beating hearts,
And many hopes and fears;
And many were the pray'rs put up
For the young Chevalier.

Chorus

Catalan Folk Song — English lyrics: Jackie O’Neill

Farewell, lad, a fond farewell, lad.
I weep and grieve at the thought of parting.
Farewell, lad, a fond farewell,
and I pray one day you will be returning.

Young man, with a face so handsome,
why must you go into war a-marching?
A youth, with a face so handsome,
becomes a soldier in days of war.

Return when the fighting's o'er,
when your captain brave needs you there no more.
Return when the fighting's o'er,
I'll be waiting here, I'll be waiting here.

Old Welsh Carol — Lyrics: Robert Bryan (1858-1920)

Chorus:
Sleep, my baby, sleep my darling,
Do the angels smile in heaven,
When thy happy smile they see?

Sleep, my baby, on my bosom,
Warm and cozy, it will prove,
Round thee mother's arms are folding,
In her heart a mother's love.
There shall no one come to harm thee,
Naught shall ever break thy rest;
Sleep, my darling babe, in quiet,
Sleep on mother's gentle breast.

Chorus
Sleep serenely, baby, slumber,
Lovely baby, gently sleep;
Tell me wherefore art thou smiling,
Smiling sweetly in thy sleep?
Do the angels smile in heaven
When thy happy smile they see?
Dost thou on them smile while slum'bring
On my bosom peacefully.

A Gaelic Blessing

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the gentle night to you.
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you.
Deep peace of light, healing light,
the light of the world to you.
Deep peace of light to you.

Pure blue of the northern skies to you.
Pure red of the whirling flame to you.
Pure white of the silver moon to you.
Pure green of the emerald grass to you.
Deep peace of the gentle night to you.
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you.
Deep peace of light, healing light,
the light of the world to you.
Deep peace of light to you.

Adagio voor twee harmoniums
Arthur Foote (1853 - 1937)

American Folk Song — Lyrics: John Avery Lomax (1867 - 1948)

You ought to see my Cindy, she lives a way down South,
And she's so sweet the honey bees swarm around her mouth.
Get along home, Cindy, Cindy, get along home, Cindy, Cindy.
Get along home, Cindy, Cindy. I'll marry you some day.

I wish I was a rich man with cash in sev’ral banks.
I sure would buy nice things for her to hear her whisper, “Thanks”.
Get along home, Cindy, Cindy, get along home, Cindy, Cindy.
Get along home, Cindy, Cindy. I'll marry you some day.

It's Cindy in the springtime, and Cindy in the fall.
If I can't have my Cindy, I'll have no girl at all.
Get along home, Cindy, Cindy, get along home, Cindy, Cindy.
Get along home, Cindy, Cindy. I'll marry you some day.

Oh, Cindy got religion, she had it once before,
But when she hears my old banjo, she's the first one on the floor.
Get along home, Cindy, Cindy, get along home, Cindy, Cindy.
Get along home, Cindy, Cindy. I'll marry you some day.

Irish Traditional

Man
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there;
She once was a true love of mine.

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Without no seams nor needle work;
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Woman
Tell him to find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the salt water and the sea strand;
Then he'll be a true love of mine.

Tell him to reap it with a sickle of leather,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
And tie up the shaves with a rope made of heather;
Then he'll be a true love of mine.

Both
"Love imposes impossible tasks,"
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
"Though never more than your own heart asks,
And I must know you're a true love of mine".

Dear, when thou hast finished thy task,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Come to me, my hand for to ask,
For then thou art a true love of mine.

Irish Traditional — Lyrics: Thomas Moore (1805)

'Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions are faded and gone.
No flower of her kindred, no rosebud is nigh
To reflect back her blushes, or give sigh for sigh.

I'll leave thee, thou lone one, to pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping, go sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter thy leaves o'er the bed,
Where the mates of the garden lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow when friendships decay,
And from Love's shining circle the gems drop away.
When true hearts lie withered and fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit this bleak world alone?

Comic Irish Song — Music and lyrics: James Yorkston, ca. 1880

In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow,
Crying: cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

She was a fishmonger, but sure ‘t was no wonder,
For so were her father and mother before.
And they each wheeled their barrow, through streets broad and narrow,
Crying: cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

She died of a fever and no one could save her,
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
Now her ghost wheels her barrow, through streets broad and narrow,
Crying: cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying: cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying: cockles and mussels alive a-live O!

Scottisch / English Folk Song

The water is wide, I cannot cross o'er.
And neither have I the wings to fly.
Build me a boat that can carry two,
And both shall row, my true love and I.
 
A ship there is and she sails the seas.
She's laden deep, as deep can be;
But not so deep as the love I'm in,
And I know not if I sink or swim.
 
O love is handsome and love is fine,
Bright as a jewel when first it's new;
But love grows old and waxes cold,
And fades away like the morning dew.

Irish traditional — Lyrics: William Butler Yeats, 1889
Down by the Sally Gardens, my love and I did meet.
She passed the Sally Gardens with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree.
But I was young and foolish, with her did not agree.

In a field down by the river, my love and I did stand
And on my leaning shoulder, she laid her snow-white hand.
She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs.
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

After Symf. 9/II, Antonin Dvořák — Lyrics: William A. Fischer

Going home, going home,
I am going home.
Quiet like some still day
I am going home.
It's not far, just close by,
Through an open door.
Work all done, care laid by,
never fear no more.
Mother's there expecting me;
Father's waiting too.
Lots of faces gathered there,
All the friends I knew.
I'm just going home.

No more fear, no more pain.
Nothing lost, all's gain.
No more stumbling by the way,
No more longing for the day;
Going to run no more.
Morning star lights the way,
Restless dreams all gone.
Shadows gone, break of day,
Real life has begun.
There’s no break, there’s no end,
Just living on.
Wide awake, with a smile going on and on.

Going home, going home,
I am going home.
The shadows gone, break of day,
Real life has begun.
I'm just going home.