Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Anti-war ditty vs welcome home ditty.

Hello!

Well, I discovered this song when I was looking for the lyrics to 'When Johnny comes marching home' (which found myself humming as I was playing games on facebook). It's an older song to the same tune, and luckily for me I discovered Bob Dylan singing it...which makes so much sense when you consider the times and politics Bob would have held at the time he recorded it, since it's an anti-war/anti-recruiting song.



Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye - written in the early 1800's


While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy, hurroo, hurroo
While goin' the road to sweet Athy
A stick in me hand and a drop in me eye
A doleful damsel I heard cry,
Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Chorus:
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns, hurroo, hurroo
With your drums and guns and drums and guns
The enemy nearly slew ye
Oh my darling dear, Ye look so queer
Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your eyes that were so mild
When my heart you so beguiled
Why did ye run from me and the child
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run, hurroo, hurroo
Where are your legs that used to run
When you went for to carry a gun
Indeed your dancing days are done
Oh Johnny, I hardly knew ye.

I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home, hurroo, hurroo
I'm happy for to see ye home
All from the island of Sulloon
So low in flesh, so high in bone
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg, hurroo, hurroo
Ye haven't an arm, ye haven't a leg
Ye're an armless, boneless, chickenless egg
Ye'll have to put with a bowl out to beg
Oh Johnny I hardly knew ye.

They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again, hurroo, hurroo
They're rolling out the guns again
But they never will take our sons again
No they never will take our sons again
Johnny I'm swearing to ye.

Basically it's about Irish conscripts who went to fight in Ceylon (Sri Lanka) for the British East India Company, and the devastation to the families back home who weren't returned whole men. Thus serving a reminder to all young lads who were off to seek adventure, that they weren't guaranteed a life free from harm, or a body capable of work when they returned home.

Now when you compare this song to When Johnny Comes Marching Home, by Patrick Gilmore, you get quite a different sense of war. It is more a song of triumph and welcoming. Never mentioning what could happen to the men's bodies during the American Civil War, but rather celebrating the fact they've made it home. I'm sure many a family of the time wished this about their sons, fathers, brothers, uncles and nephews...it must have been a bitter pill to swallow for all those who had loved ones who never returned, or rued the day that their men were crippled. It's a song quite filled with the hope of seeing everyone return home safe and sound (which is why I often sing it to myself). I certainly feel it's an odd juxtaposition between the songs. One warning of the dangers of war, whilst the other celebrates the returning of soldiers in such a triumphant manner that it almost causes you to forget the dangers in participating in battles.

Just for comparison here are the words by Patrick Gilmore written in 1862.

When Johnny comes marching home again 
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We'll give him a hearty welcome then
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The men will cheer and the boys will shout
The ladies they will all turn out
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.
The old church bell will peal with joy
Hurrah! Hurrah!
To welcome home our darling boy,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The village lads and lassies say
With roses they will strew the way,
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.
Get ready for the Jubilee,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
We'll drink him a toast or two or three,
Hurrah! Hurrah!
The laurel wreath is ready now
To place upon his loyal brow
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.
Let love and friendship on that day,
Hurrah, hurrah!
Their choicest pleasures then display,
Hurrah, hurrah!
And let each one perform some part,
To fill with joy the warrior's heart,
And we'll all feel gay
When Johnny comes marching home.

Now that I've heard the earlier song, I think I'll sing it's words instead, as it surely reflects my own opinions of war more succinctly.

Kate

Thursday, March 18, 2010

An Irish Blessing...and only one day late.

I know that yesterday was St. Patrick's day, but I didn't really feel the need to say anything about it until I saw a partial poem on facebook.

It was of this traditional blessing:

May the road rise to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

May God be with you and bless you:
May you see your children's children.
May you be poor in misfortune,
Rich in blessings.
May you know nothing but happiness
From this day forward.

May the road rise up to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
May the warm rays of sun fall upon your home
And may the hand of a friend always be near.

May green be the grass you walk on,
May blue be the skies above you,
May pure be the joys that surround you,
May true be the hearts that love you.

Oh and while I'm at it I'll include this nice little poem about death:

Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow, I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain, I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush, I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight, I am the star shine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom, I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing, I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there. I do not die.

I have a feeling the last one was read out at Nonna's funeral...but I can't honestly recall because I was so lost in missing her.

Either way, neither have anything much to do with St. Patrick, and not being Irish Catholic, all I can say about him is that I think his legend goes along the line; When he brought Christianity to Ireland, he also drove out all the snakes ridding the isle of those devilish beasties. Which I'm sure you'll agree is a long way from the beer swilling day of green faces that we associate him with today.

If you were drinking yesterday I hope you enjoyed your pints, and are not feeling green this morning.

Hooroo, Kate


Kittens

Hi everyone, 

I just found this posted on a random blog and it amused me so much I've decided to repost it for all of you. I love the mother cat followed by the kitten comment. In another shot, the stage directions for the camera operator and following sound effects are pretty funny. 

Have a giggle, go on, you know you want to!

Kate

Edited 19th March:

I just watched this again and had to comment that the pornstar music for the kitty is a little disturbing, lol. I hope she heard it on that dodgy deodorant ad...cause that would be truely freaky otherwise!