1. Highdown fair
2. The herons
3. Old man and butterflies
4. Lullabye to Sarah
5. The song of eternal numbers
6. The stag
7. The funeral
8. The man and the cloud
9. Under the lime tree
10. A song of regret
Highdown Fair
(freely adapted from a easter hebrew song)
(Peter Sinfield - Angelo
Branduardi)
At Highdown fair for two
farthings
My father bought me a little white mouse…
Along came a grey cat and ate up the white mouse
My father bought in the market square…
At Highdown fair for two farthings
My father bought me a little white mouse…
Along came a black dog, and jumped on the grey cat
Who ate up the white mouse
My father bought in the market square...
At Highdown fair for two farthings
My father bought me a little white mouse…
Along came an old stick, and beat off the black dog
Who jumped on the grey cat who ate up the white mouse
My father bought in the market square...
At Highdown fair…
Along came a fire and burnt up the old stick
Which beat off the black dog that jumped on the grey cat
Who ate up the white mouse
At Highdown fair…
Along came sweet water, and put out the fire
Which burnt up the old stick...
At Highdown fair…
Along came a great ox, and drunk all the water
Which put out the fire...
At Highdown fair…
Along came a butcher and slaughtered the great ox
Which drunk all the water...
At Highdown fair…
And the Angel of the death came by for the butcher
Who slaughtered the great ox...
At Highdown fair…
And last came the Lord, who threw down the Angel
Who came for the butcher...
The Herons
(Peter Sinfield - Angelo Branduardi)
And now when the earth has
stooped to gather
In the careful hands of autumn
All that summer has abandoned,
A time of left behind…
Comes a wind that blows
unceasing
Erodes away the dunes
On grey moon hungry beaches,
Where the winter crows parading
Cry out in black formation
Their scorn upon the world
Everturning…
And there where the fruit no
longer ripens
On the vines the years have withered,
Has the earth so soon forgotten
That not so long ago
How the wind was soft and perfumed
How the herons turned and circled
With their wings aflame with sunset…
Now the winter crows parading
Cry out in black formation
Their scorn upon the world
Everchanging...
Old man and butterflies
(Peter Sinfield - Angelo Branduardi)
Just off a highway, a many
ringed oak tree,
Guarding forever his corner of meadow,
Saw one hot June day a dusty old pedlar
Footsore and weary look round him for shadow…
“Come my weary friend and
lay your pack upon the ground
And I will keep you safe if you should care to rest your head.
Come my weary friend and lay
your troubles all around
And listen to the music in the leaves above your bed”.
Gladly the old man
Lay down by the oak tree
Muttered his thanks and fell soundly asleep…
The old pedlar
Slept on for many an hour
Resting his head on his hand by and by:
He dreamed a dream that he’d left his old body
And had become a fine gold butterfly…
The golden butterfly went
flitting flower after flower
And dreamed he was an old man fast asleep for many an hour…
The golden butterfly went
flitting flower after flower
And dreamed he was an old man fast asleep for many an hour.
The old pedlar slept on
beneath the great oak tree
Dreaming his butterfly dream where he flew free…
The golden butterfly went
flitting flower after flower
And dreamed he was an old man fast asleep for many an hour…
The golden butterflies go
fitting ever to explore
But dream that they are old men who can sleep for evermore.
Lullaby to Sarah
(Peter Sinfield - Angelo Branduardi)
You are a sailboat
Upon the ocean
You are a sailboat
And I will steer you
Across the sea to dreamland
To where there’s white sand…
Across the sea in dreamland
To where a soft breeze
Blows in a deep blue sky
And moves the palm trees…
And you will lie there
And hear the birds sing
And they will bring you presents
Of a hundred gold rings
And if you count them slowly
They’ll change to wishes
So sleep my little sailboat
With stores of milk and honey
And sixpences for money
And safe beneath a great moon
I’ll sing this rockabye tune,
So shut your pretty eyes
And I’ll steer you to the white sand
For we’re on our way to dreamland
Until the morning…
The song of eternal numbers
(Peter Sinfield - Angelo Branduardi)
Come here my angel and sit
on my knee
And tell me what song you would hear from me.
"Sing me the song of eternal numbers
And from this day I shall well remember".
One is for the reaper
Waiting for his harvest of life,
Two is for the oxen straining at the cart,
Three is for the world and its every part,
Four there are the standing stones of Merlin
Where the hero's swords were ever sharpened...
One is for the reaper
Waiting for his harvest of life.
And the sum of the golden
times
In all ages of man is five
Sang the dwarf in a cloud of steam,
Threw six herbs in the draught which he stirred
And he laughed... he went "ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,"
And there are seven suns and there are seven moons,
Eight the blazing fires by the first of June,
Nine is for the maidens dancing round the fountain
Worshipping the moon rising on the mountain...
One is for the reaper
Waiting for his harvest of life.
Ten is for the galleons
coming from the war
Which our young men fought on a distant shore
And walking with their flag we counted eleven,
All that now remain of a hundred young men...
One is for the reaper
Waiting for his harvest of life.
And the sum of the golden times
In all the ages of man is five
And the months of the year are twelve
Made of days, made of hours and minutes that pass
And they pass and they pass, they pass...
Now twelve is for the signs
in the starbright sky
In envy of his neighbour challenge and defy,
I sing you the song of eternal numbers
But I see a time when all is ended...
One is for the reaper
Waiting for his harvest of life.
There will come a day when
the trumpet splits the sky
And thunder, fire and wind will lay waste the low and high;
That will be the time in the song of numbers
When the reaper tires at last of waiting...
One is for the reaper
And two the oxen,
And three the parts,
And four is for the stones,
Five is for the ages,
Six is for the herbs,
And seven are the suns,
And seven are the moons,
Eight is for the fires,
Nine is for the maidens,
Ten is for the galleons,
Eleven for the young men,
Twelve is for the signs
And twelve for time a'passing...
One is for the reaper who laughs
As one by one the stars blink out.
The Stag
(Peter Sinfield - Angelo Branduardi)
“Tell us our good master
Why you sit there so quietly
And where are the trophies
You usually bring home
Like the heads of the Bengal tiger
That decorate your great hall
And the skins of lion and zebra
That you've laid wall to wall...”
My friends, in the foothills
before the rainy season
I went out hunting one day all by myself,
Keeping the wind in my face I crept up
To where a herd of deer were grazing
When suddenly before me
Stood a great horned king of stags
And it's the truth I tell you, believe me
As the lord abode’s my witness,
The great beast did not quaver
But softly began to speak...
"It's written in the stars,
lord
Upon this day I die
So these my gifts I offer
To you this Eastertide:
These majestic antlers for you
To hang your bows on
And these my ears as fine cups
For you to toast your ladies,
Take both my bright eyes
For a pair of shining mirrors
And all these bristles
For brushes to shave your face.
I pray that you eat my flesh for ten days
And from my hide you make a warm coat
And as for your strength and courage
My liver will serve you well
Thus in the stars it's written, my good sir
That the body of this your servant
Seven times will be fruitful
And seven times be reborn...”
Tell us our good master
why you sit there so quietly
and where are all the trophies
you usually bring home...
The funeral
(Peter Sinfield - Angelo Branduardi)
When nightfall enfolds you
and quickens your heart
For you walk alone on the highway,
If a polecat springs hissing her eyes raging amber
Then you must stand still and not fear her
For if you befriend her your sister she’ll be
And she of all beasts knows the river
Its secret unwindings and reason for flowing
And a safe road beside the dark water…
When nightfall enfolds you
and quickens your heart
For you walk alone on the highway,
If a grey wolf springs snarling his teeth bared in anger
Then you must stay calm and not fear him
For if you befriend him your brother he’ll be
And he of all beasts knows the old way
That climbs to the one pass that cuts through the mountain
And a warm cave where you may take shelter…>
So follow the highway that
leads to the lake
And you will discover a sweet spring
That bubbles and runs down the hillsides of childhood
And there lay your heart down forever...
The man and the cloud
(Peter Sinfield - Angelo Branduardi)
She he loved
When first he saw her:
She was so pale and untouchable.
So far away
He could never find
A path to climb to reach her.
All serene she gazed at him
As on the wind she lay reclining.
He followed her eversighing
As she played hide and seek in her wide blue meadow
It seemed forever
That he had loved her
Always so pale and untouchable.
“How cruel you are,
behind your white veil
you hide a heart that’s frozen”.
Sorrowful she came to him
And in her own way surrendered…
Rain, gentle rain, her tests
She gave to him
And shedding love shed living...
Under the lime tree
(Peter Sinfield - Angelo Branduardi)
Down in the greenwood, under
the lime tree
We spent lover’s hours
And if you pass by you’ll know we lay there,
Look how we crushed all the flowers.
The insects buzzed and the nightingales sang
High above the forest on a soft south wind,
Point and laugh if you come walking past
I don’t care at all how red her mouth is.
Down in the greenwood, under
the lime tree
Crushing the grass and the sweet herbs
There in the roses I laid my head down,
See where the petals are disturbed.
And if you accuse her of lying there with me
This I know for sure she will never be ashamed:
She was the one, the one and only woman
I ever came to wish would whisper my name.
Down in the greenwood, under
the lime tree
The lily embraces the ivy
And if you pass by, stop look and marvel
At how she has grown to survive him
For she stayed here with me for just a year
And bound our hair with gold,Oh my little white dove...
One fine day she turned into a hawk
And flew off to the sun to find a new love.
Up in the blue sky ever the
wind flies
Searching the clouds of his dreamland,
The dream is for beauty but he’ll never catch her...
She’ll always slip through his hands
And thus we live forever and the dream
Just like the wind and clouds will escape us...
And thus we live forever and the world
Just like the wind and clouds will escape us.
A Song of regret
(Peter Sinfield - Angelo Branduardi)
Winter’s frozen moments
Will melt once more to spring,
Birds with peppered feathers
Return once more to sing…
But so high soars the mountain
That though I climb and climb
She always hides her flowers from me…
In long ago’s lost garden
The apple trees will bear
A thousand fruits of red and green
But not one will I share…
For constant must I travel
And in some far off land
Lie down once more remembering…
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