Literally. My father had an old banjo and he liked to strum and sing. Some of the songs he sang were versions of well-known folk songs, although I didn't know it at the time, or even that there were such things as folk-songs.
A song I particularly remember is "Barbara Allen".
Twas in the merry month of May, When green buds all were swelling. Young Jimmy Groves on his death-bed lay. For love of Barbara Allen.
This is a melancholy story, of love unrequited, and repentance come too late. Our own family version ends
As she was going across the fields She heard the death bell knelling. And stroke to her did say Hard-hearted Barbara Allen.
Oh mother, oh mother, go dig my grave Dig it both long and narrow. Young Jimmy died for love of me And I will die tomorrow.
There is real poetry there I think.
Although I had no idea about it back then, the song is in the famous collection of ballads assembled by Francis Child. The first known publication is from 1740, but Samuel Pepys in his diaries mentions what looks to be the same ballad. The Wikipedia article is very informative.
Later in my early twenties I heard Joan Baez sing the song, and I still love the way she does it. But she (and many others) add a final consolatory verse, in which the sad pair are in the end united, a rose and a briar that grow from their respective graves, and intertwine. I don't like that. It is a sad poem and best kept so.
A Song My Father Taught Me
Literally. My father had an old banjo and he liked to strum and sing. Some of the songs he sang were versions of well-known folk songs, although I didn't know it at the time, or even that there were such things as folk-songs.
A song I particularly remember is "Barbara Allen".
Twas in the merry month of May,
When green buds all were swelling.
Young Jimmy Groves on his death-bed lay.
For love of Barbara Allen.
This is a melancholy story, of love unrequited, and repentance come too late. Our own family version ends
As she was going across the fields
She heard the death bell knelling.
And stroke to her did say
Hard-hearted Barbara Allen.
Oh mother, oh mother, go dig my grave
Dig it both long and narrow.
Young Jimmy died for love of me
And I will die tomorrow.
There is real poetry there I think.
Although I had no idea about it back then, the song is in the famous collection of ballads assembled by Francis Child. The first known publication is from 1740, but Samuel Pepys in his diaries mentions what looks to be the same ballad. The Wikipedia article is very informative.
Later in my early twenties I heard Joan Baez sing the song, and I still love the way she does it. But she (and many others) add a final consolatory verse, in which the sad pair are in the end united, a rose and a briar that grow from their respective graves, and intertwine. I don't like that. It is a sad poem and best kept so.