John Barleycorn - QUADRIGA CONSORT

John Barleycorn, Traditional England/Scotland, arranged by Nikolaus Newerkla for Quadriga Consort.
Elisabeth Kaplan, voice
Karin Silldorff, recorder
Angelika Huemer, treble viol
Dominika Teufel, tenor viol
Peter Trefflinger, baroque cello
Laurenz Schiffermüller, percussion
Nikolaus Newerkla, harpsichord

DVD: Quadriga Live
www.quadriga-consort.at



John Barleycorn

There was three farmers in the North, as they were passing by,
They swore an oath, a mighty oath that Barleycorn should die,
One of them said drown him and the other said hang him high,
For whoever shall stick to barley grain a-begging he will die.

They put poor barley into a sack of a cold and rainy day
And brought him down to culm fields and burned him in the clay,
Frost and snow began to melt and the dew began to fall,
When barley grain put up his head and soon surprised them all.
With me fa-la-la-the-dee, toor-a-lay, and soon surprised them all.

Being in the summer season the harvest coming on,
It's the time he stands up in the field with a beard like any man.
The reaper then came with his hook and used me barbarously,
He caught me by the middle so small and cut me above the knee.

The next came was the binder and looked on me with a frown,
But in the middle there was a thistle that pulled his courage down.
The farmer came with his pitchfork and pierced me to the heart,
Like a thief, a rogue or a highwayman, they tied me to the cart.
With me fa-la-la-the-dee, toor-a-lay, they tied me to the cart.

The thrasher came with his big flail and soon he broke my bones,
`Twould grieve the heart of any man to hear my sighs and groans,
The next thing that they done to me: They steeped me in a well,
They left me there for a day and a night until I began to swell.

The next thing that they done to me: They dried me in a kiln,
They used me ten times worse than that: They ground me in a mill.
They used me in the kitchen, they used me in the hall,
They used me in the parlour, among the ladies all.
With me fa-la-la-the-dee, toor-a-lay, among the ladies all.

The barley grain is a comical grain, it makes men sigh and moan,
For when they take a glass or two, they forget their wives and home
The drunkard is a dirty man -- he used me worse than all,
He drank me up in his dirty maw and tumbled against the wall.
With me fa-la-la-the-dee, toor-a-lay, and tumbled against the wall.

Category:

Music

Tags:

• quadriga
• consort
• early
• music
• scotland
• england
• celtic
• ireland
• band
• cello
• baroque
• renaissance
• recorder
• percussion
• folk
• flute

[zurcher]

Great music, fine musicians. I could listen to Quadriga Consort every day.