Goodbye to July Picnic

[jjhunter]

Sunday, every Sunday, let's have a community picnic. It's probably been a long week, and it's lovely to have a few minutes to sit back and relax and enjoy some good conversation in a less formal space. Feel free to bring something for the Picnic Basket - a poem you liked this week, a thought you had or something you experienced, or even something completely unrelated to poetry whatsoever that you just feel like sharing. Just take a moment to say hello, and maybe have a bite to eat; no one is going anywhere fast, and the shade promises some relief from the everyday heat. Let’s get to know each other a bit better, here under the branches of the poet’s tree.

Comments

[spiralsheep]

I sing three different traditional versions of John Barleycorn to three different tunes.

http://www.informatik.uni-hamburg.de/~zierke/lloyd/songs/johnbarleycorn.html

http://www.informatik.uni-hamburg.de/~zierke/folk/songs/heyjohnbarleycorn.html

And The Barley Grain For Me (which is similar to the one you know but with an upbeat drinking song sort of tune instead of a dirge):

THE BARLEY GRAIN FOR ME

Oh, three men went to market to sell three loads of rye.
They shouted up and they shouted down: the barley grain should die.

CHORUS: Ti rie icherie eerie an
Ti rie ichrie ee.
Ti rie icherie erie an
The barley grain for me.

The ploughman came with a heavy plough. He ploughed me under the sod,
The winter being over and the summer coming on.

The reaper came with a sharp knife. He made me for to cry.
He caught me by the whiskers and he cut me above the thigh.

The binder came with a heavy thong. She bound me all around,
And they hired a handy man to stand me on the ground.

The pitcher came with a sharp fork. He pierced me to the heart,
And like a thief or highwayman, they threw me on the cart.

The thresher came with a heavy flail. He swore he'd break my bones,
But the miller he used me worse, he ground me between two stones.

They took me out of that. They put me in a well.
They left me there for a space of time 'till my belly began to swell.

The brewer came with all her art. She put me in the pan,
And when I got into the jug, I was the strongest man.

They drank me in the kitchen. They drank me in the hall,
But the drunkard used me worst of all. He threw me against the wall.

[untonuggan]

ooh, thanks for sharing!