SCA songs

Lady Drachenwald

I'l sing you of a lady sweet, of grace and virtue seldom told.
Of kindness speaks her every deed, her gentle smile is never cold.
Where my travels me may lead, if I return to her she'll greet
me well, my lady Drachenwald.

She is much loved by many men, and women too, I dare to say.
Her heart opens to all of them, she gives them food, a place to stay,
or other things, and if she can, she'll give all that she has to them,
and keep them living day by day.

Her gentle curves so softly flow, her eyes are like two pools so deep
that in the moonlight silver glow to anyone who's not asleep.
Her dress of velvet green will show the trees and flowers there that grow,
her beauty in my heart I keep.

But I cannot stay at her side, my soul just will not let me be.
I must be roaming far and wide and many lands and people see.
But I will not too often hide myself from her beloved sight,
for in her arms I long to be.


Song for Isle

Lovely land of greens and gold, where a hundred views unfold.
Where for the wayfarer bold are thousand wonders to behold.

Lovely are your plains so wide, dreaming in moon's silver light,
or to walk through forests bright, where the squirrels quickly hide.

Climbing hills where rabbits run, looking backward at the sun,
seeing where your road begun, and how 'till here it has been spun.

Rest at wayside for a while, you can see the flowers smile,
when you're starting your next mile, wand'ring through the land of Isle.

Silver sparkles in the bay, reds and browns on autumn's day,
flaming forests guard the way to soft warm beds where you can stay.

Reaching place where road has led, finding safety and a bed
a place to rest your tired head and dream of all that you have met.
Written with Hilde


The Black Rider

Once there lived a lady in a castle strong and tall,
with her father and her uncle, one who was not kind at all.
He was not very content, with the place he had in there,
and he planned to take the castle from his brother and the heir.
But soon the black rider would wander through the land,
he'll have the bad ones to punish and the weak ones to defend.

They went out for a hunt and the uncle saw his chance,
and soon he'd killed her father and she just escaped the dance.
She dressed herself in black, used a mask to hide her face,
she went into the forest, made herself a hiding place.
Since then the black rider wanders through the land
she had the bad ones to punish and the weak ones to defend.

The uncle had the castle now, and still wanted her dead.
He ordered his eight servants and he told them she had fled.
He said go out and scourge the land, burn it like a flame,
and dress in black like she has done so she will get the blame.
And then eight black riders wandered through the land
they made the life of peasants hard, followed their lord's com-mand.

Still the lady is alive, and doing what she can.
Though she is strong, she's on her own, against her are eight men.
But one day everyone will see that she was always right.
She will avenge her father then and finally get her right.
And then the black rider will stop to roam the land,
no need for bad ones to punish, or weak ones to defend.


A soft and gentle heart.

He was a boy of twelve years old, a shy, unhappy lad,
she was a deer, both shy and bold, to his window she was led.
When he first heard the bushes sigh and went to look and see,
when he looked in her glitt'ring eye, he felt his soul set free.

He talked to her in crooning voice, that showed his gentleness,
she did not shy from this strange boy, she came to his carress.
And then she jumped and ran away, for careful she was still.
He dreamed of her soft eyes that day, and of her gentle will.

He feared that she would not return, searching he could not go.
For his father told him: "you must learn what my son needs to know.
You'll learn to fight and use the sword, you'll practise till you drop,
you will be like a hard, strong lord, your dreaming now shall stop."

The boy did really try his best, and fought and practised much,
his father put him to the test, and vented his disgust.
the boy despaired: his father's dream did not fit him the least.
And when he could he sought a gleam of the sweet and gentle beast.

He found her soon and they became the best of friends those two.
Together she was always tame, the boy was never blue.
Their friendship grew over the years, in winter, spring and fall,
untill this came true of his fears: there was a hunting call.

His father took him to the hunt, to show he was a man.
He laughed hard and he ordered blunt: "Go first, if that you can."
The boy went first, and looked around, and fear grew in his heart.
And as it happened then he found the deer stood in his path.

She looked at him with glitt'ring eye, his father said with delight:
"This deer will so easily die, and grace our meal tonight!"
They boy just stood, and looked into her eyes, and her sweet face,
until he knew what he must do, and scared her from the place.

His father cuffed him on the ears, so angry was he then.
But what hurt more than this, I fear, he saw her not again.
Then they went home, and many years did pass since this event.
The boy grew up, despite his tears, became a gentle man.

And after years this former boy went walking in the woods,
until to his surprise and joy the deer before him stood.
She came to him with unsure step, older had grown her charms.
She laid her head upon his lap, and died there in his arms.


Saracen Battle song

Refr: We will fight these brazen men coming to our home
we will show them what we can, we'll defend our own.

Our country is so beautiful, her rolling hills of gold,
her waterholes so bountiful, more green than can be told,
Her orchards filled by live, vine, feed camel sheep and lamb.
But the pearl of her for whom I pine is Jerusalem.

We are the finest artisans the world will e'er provide,
science flows from our teachers pens, who in their art delight.
Mathematics, history, but also cotton fair,
and even the oranges that you see, grow under our care.

We follow the One who told us how to live, to work, to die.
But other groups we will allow if they with rules comply.
But these barbarians from the West, they think they are our friend
they think that they know everything best, and they wat our land.

If they think that they can decide how we live our lives
we will show them quite a fight, gather all the tribes.
They will pay for every life that falls into their hand,
so will they repay their strife for Jerusalem.


See the dawn.

See the dawn comes: her sweet sight shows us now a red-gold glow.
The first unsuspected sight of the sun's warm golden light
commences cruel a lover's plight, of their love no-one may know...
See the dawn comes: her sweet sight shows us now a red-gold glow.

See the dawn comes: her sweet sight wakes the bird-song, high and low.
But the lady wants to hide, snuggle to her lover's side,
'Sun, be gone from us', she cried, but Sun has never pity known...
See the dawn comes: her sweet sight wakes the bird-song, high and low.

See the dawn comes: her sweet sight could much happiness bestow.
But she, who soon will be a bride, and her love then be denied,
only kept on holding tight, while their fear and fright did grow.
See the dawn comes: her sweet sight could much happiness bestow.

See the dawn comes: her sweet sight lets a single salt tear flow.
And he says for her he'll fight show his worth, with all his might,
but she only holds him tight, asks him only peace to know.
See the dawn comes: her sweet sight lets a single salt tear flow.

See the dawn comes: her sweet sight by the sky is fully shown.
Now they leave each other's side, no longer in this field they'll bide,
but look back 'till they loose sight until that comfort leaves also..
See the dawn comes: her sweet sight by the sky is fully shown.


To Celebrate our Guild

In Spring we'll sing a flower out which like our music grows,
and every green leaf that will sprout brings inspiration close.
Refr: Let music sound in Drachenwald, to lift our spirits high,
so that of joys we may be told, and that those times gone by,
we ever in our hearts will hold.

Sunlight won't hide on Summer's day, but spreads its boons around,
That is the time that we will play to celebrate with wound.

In fall, know all, the food is stored, the trees a mighty sight.
And during work, who will be bored with stories day and night?

Each day we stay in Winter's snow close where the fire burns,
A new flute in our hands will grow to play when Spring returns.

We'll share, at fair or feast or court the knowledge that we hold,
and find the information stored in books and what is told.

And then we'll plan some music new, a song like this is built,
which I am singing now to you to celebrate our Guild.


When Summer Sings

When Summer sings her highest song loves follows in her wake,
a melody of days grown long, of laughter on the lake,
a tune of sunlight in the woods, of mountains tow'ring high,
of flowers' scent that smells so good, and of my love and I.

We whisper in the evening breeze, like trees do in the wind,
we circle just like honey-bees, to catch a flower's scent.
We cuddle close, just I believe, like two small turtle doves,
and failing light of summer's eve will find us in the groves.

The warm bright sunlight of the morn will wake us from our sleep,
to walk amidst the golden corn, a treasure worth to keep.
O would dear Summer never die, nor Winter take Her place,
forever then my love and I could walk in her embrace.


De arme bardenmeid
(op de wijs van 'the jolly beggarman')

Ik ben een arme bardenmeid en dat is grote pech
want steeds weer moet ik reizen, ben altijd onderweg,
Ik slaap in stro en op de grond en eet heel vaak droog brood
en ik weet ik ben een groot artiest maar leef toch in de goot.
En als ik zing dan krijg ik af en toe wat geld als dank,
maar ook rotte tomaten en ik hou niet van die stank,
ik kan toch prachtig zingen maar men vindt mij soms een plaag,
dus ren ik maar voor mijn hachie weg want anders krijg ik slaag.

Ik schrijf zelf vele liedjes die je van me hoort,
helaas komt het vaak voor dat iemand er zich erg aan stoort,
omdat ik slechts de waarheid zeg, ik overdrijf toch nooit!
Weet je, daarom ben ik heel miskend, vervolgd en ook berooid.
En soms dan heeft zo'n nette heer het heel hoog in zijn bol
en gooide met een groots gebaar mijn hoed met koper vol,
zodat ik over hem dan alleen goeds te zingen dien
maar alleen voor bergen goud zal ik de waarheid niet meer zien.

Ik zing te hoog, niet hard genoeg of het verkeerde lied,
en wat ik ook proberen mag echt helpen doet het niet.
Maar zeg mij wie er meer verstand dan ik heeft van muziek?
Wie er klaagt, nou die zingt zelf maar eens en dat is mijn repliek.
En dus blijf ik nog steeds doorzingen tegen alles in
En ooit dan word ik hofminstreel en heb ik toch mijn zin,
en tot die tijd houd ik mijn hoed op voor een kleine gunst,
wat echt heel weinig gevraagd is voor Ongewaardeerde Kunst.

Ik ben een arme bardenmeid maar wees maar voorbereid
beroemd zal ik eens worden het kost me alleen wat tijd
en dus trek tot dan maar rond met ijver en met vlijt
want weet als ik straks ontdekt word hebben al die mensen spijt!


The little minstrel girl
(On "the jolly beggarman")

I am a little minstrel girl which can be very hard,
for always I must travel and then at the first light part.
I sleep on floors or in the hay and eat my bread all dry
Though I am the finest artist I still in the gutter lie.
Sometimes when I sing a copper falls besides my bench.
but they also throuw tomatoes and I do abhor the stench.
I sing just like a lark but still some do think me a curse
so I've learned to run real fast because a beating is much worse.

I've written many songs which no one ever will forget,
unfortunately often someone really gets upset
For I always tell the truth which I will never overdo,
But that's why I'm hunted, unacknowledged and a poor one too.
And sometimes a real puffed up disdainful lord who then will soon forget
will throw with a grand gesture copper coins into my hat,
so I should sing of him like there is only good I see,
but it's only hands of gold can dim the light of truth for me.

I sing too high, not hard enough or just do it all wrong,
whatever I do try some keep disliking every song.
But tell me who knows more then me about a lively tune?
Who complains can try themselves or take a journey to the moon.
So I will keep on singing despite all my sweat and pain,
because one day I finally a place at court will gain.
Until that time I ask if you would with a copper part,
which is not much asked for hearing Unappreciated Art.

I am a little minstrel girl, I'm sure that more was meant
In time I will be famous, my succes will soon be sent
so I will keep on travelling with lute and drum and tent
because if I am discovered all those people will repent.


Spring Song

The grass is green and I am here
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do
No time for tears, no time for fear
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do
The friendly sun is shining bright
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do
The world is flowed in golden light
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do

The sun is warm, the sky is blue
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do
Today the whole world seems brandnew
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do
The trees they bloom in pink and white
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do
It is an overwhelming sight
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do

The spring has come, the win-ter's gone
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do
We have been waiting for so long
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do
The flowers show their faces small
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do
And I, well I just love it all
    Sing do-dah-day-dee-do