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Mazurkas by Gilles Chabenat and L'Inconnu de Limoise by Maxou Heintzen - played by accordiona

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Uploaded on Sep 29, 2010

Lorna Pollock, accordion.

Mazurkas by Gilles Chabenat.
http://www.gilleschabenat.com/english...
From his site: Born in 1963 at Lignières in Central France, Gilles Chabenat began playing the hurdy-gurdy at 13 with Les Thiaulins, an association devoted to folk arts and traditions. Following private lessons with Georges Simon, he won several music awards and subsequently devoted himself to his region's traditional repertoire with a desire to branch out into other musical styles.

L'Inconnu de Limoise (The Unknown Piper) by Jean-Francois Heintzen (nickname Maxou Heintzen), a tune composed for a unknown musician who was found in a cemetery in Limoise (Allier) together with his bagpipe. The grave was unnamed, so the identity of the piper was unknown, but the story caught the imagination of the French folk world and Maxou Heintzen penned the tune in the piper's honour.

" Voici quelques années, l'employé communal de Limoise (Allier), occupé à déplacer des sépultures, eut la surprise de découvrir un défunt enterré avec une cornemuse à ses côtés. Il m'est difficile de décrire l'avalanche de réflexions et d'émotions que cela a suscité dans ma p'tite tête. Cet air fut composé sur ces entrefaites, avec l'intention délibérée de faire pleurer en majeur."

And here are the lyrics (also in French, of course!)

Il doit dormir, depuis tout ce temps
Bien gentiment, sous trois pieds de terre
V'là qu'on le dérange, impoliment
Quelle drôle d'idée, d'changer d'cimetière
Dedans sa tombe, tout contre sa tête
On a trouvé son seul bagage
Sa cornemuse, sa chère musette
Qui accompagne son grand voyage

Car on n'a pas pu les séparer
Et c'est peut-être beaucoup mieux ainsi
On les a trouvés, ils dorment dans le même lit
C'était peut-être pas un maître-sonneur
Mais il aimait ce sacré bout de bois
un peu comme une soeur que l'on veut garder près de soi

Here is a free translation of the lyrics by Mix O'Lydian in The Session:

He must have slept, for all this time
Very soundly, under three feet of ground
Until he was irreverently disturbed
What a bizarre idea, to disturb a cemetery.
Inside his tomb, all against his head
His only luggage was found
His bagpipe, its cherished sack
Accompanying him on his great voyage
Because one could not separate them
And he is perhaps much better thus.
They were found together
They sleep in the same bed
He was perhaps not a master piper
But he cared for his treasured instrument
A little like a sister
That one wants to keep close to oneself.

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