Playlist da semana

Bom dia, caros hóspedes!

Hoje a nossa playlist conta com músicas de raízes medievais, seja somente na letra - como é o caso de "Love song", da Legião Urbana - seja no conjunto letra e música. Ofereço a vocês também os poemas que deram origem a elas. Vale a pena ler e pesquisar! As canções medievais são muito ricas em metáforas.

A música do Nick Drake, "Clothes of sand" não é originalmente medieval, mas entrou aqui por ter uma estrutura muito próxima do gênero - poderia apostar que o Drake quis fazer um pastiche -, tanto musical como poeticamente, apesar de alguns elementos que são estranhos à época. Há, inclusive, uma versão com arranjos à maneira celta feita pela banda Déanta.

No caso de "Black is the color of my true love's hair", "Scarborough fair" e "Love song", o poema é bem maior do que o da versão de Nina Simone, Simon e Garfunkel e Legião Urbana, respectivamente. Coloquei essas outras versões porque elas contêm belíssimas passagens. Como a autoria não era uma questão importante ainda no medievo, não se pode falar em "versão original". Por isso, também a atualização que fazem todas as versões apresentadas aqui é um aspecto importante para se apreciar.

1) Nick Drake - Clothes of sand



Who has dressed you in strange clothes of sand?
Who has taken you far from my land?
Who has said that my sayings were wrong?
And who will say that I stayed much too long?

Clothes of sand have covered your face
Given you meaning, taken my place.
So make your way on, down to the sea -
Something has taken you so far from me.

Does it now seem worth all the colour of skies
To see the earth through painted eyes?
To look through panes of shaded glass?
See the stains of winter's grass?

Can you now return to from where you came?
Try to burn your changing name?
Or with silver spoons and coloured light
Will you worship moons in winter's night?

Clothes of sand have covered your face
Given you meaning, taken my place.
So make your way on, down to the sea -
Something has taken you so far from me.

2) Nina Simone - Black is the colour of my true love's hair



But black is the colour of my true love's hair.
His face is like some rosy fair,
The prettiest face and the neatest hands,
I love the ground whereon he stands.
I love my love and well he knows,
I love the ground whereon he goes,
If you no more on earth I see,
I can't serve you as you have me.

The winter's passed and the leaves are green,
The time is passed that we have seen,
But still I hope the time will come
When you and I shall be as one.

I go to the Clyde for to mourn and weep,
But satisfied I never could sleep.
I'll write to you a few short lines,
I'll suffer death ten thousand times.

So fare you well, my own true love
The time has passed, but I wish you well.
But still I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one.

I love my love and well he knows,
I love the ground whereon he goes.
The prettiest face, the neatest hands,
I love the ground whereon he stands.

3) Simon & Garfunkel - Scarborough fair



BOTH

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

MAN

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Without any seam nor needlework,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Which never sprung water nor rain ever fell,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

Ask her to do me this courtesy,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And ask for a like favour from me,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.

BOTH

Have you been to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me from one who lives there,
For he once was a true love of mine.

WOMAN

Ask him to find me an acre of land,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Between the salt water and the sea-sand,
For then he'll be a true love of mine.

Ask him to plough it with a lamb's horn,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And sow it all over with one peppercorn,
For then he'll be a true love of mine.

Ask him to reap it with a sickle of leather,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And gather it up with a rope made of heather,
For then he'll be a true love of mine.

When he has done and finished his work,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Ask him to come for his cambric shirt,
For then he'll be a true love of mine.

BOTH

If you say that you can't, then I shall reply,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Oh, Let me know that at least you will try,
Or you'll never be a true love of mine.

Love imposes impossible tasks,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
But none more than any heart would ask,
I must know you're a true love of mine.

3) Legião Urbana - Love song



Pois nací nunca vi Amor,
e ouço del sempre falar.
Pero sei que me quer matar,
mais rogarei a mia senhor
que me mostr'aquel matador,
ou que m'ampare del melhor.

Pero nunca lh'eu fige ren
por que m'el haja de matar;
mais quer'eu mia senhor rogar,
polo gran med'en que me ten,
que me mostr'aquel matador,
ou que m'ampare del melhor.

Nunca me lh'eu ampararei,
se m'ela del non amparar;
mais quer'eu mia senhor rogar,
polo gran medo que del hei,
que mi amostr'aquel matador,
ou que mi ampare del melhor.

E pois Amor ha sobre mí
de me matar tan gran poder,
e eu non o posso veer,
rogarei mia senhor assí
que mi amostr'aquel matador,
ou que mi ampare del melhor.

__________________________

Leto.