Jubal's poems

[Tusky]

Wish I'd have got my guitar from mum's before the lockdown. I'd have loved to try some of these.

[Jubal]

I have some recordings of them now, will get them uploaded someday soon. I think most of them are useable quality for game purposes.

[Jubal]

Song of the Butterlord

Hail, mighty Butterlord,
C            G
Master of dairies o'er
C               G
All of the lands from the steppe to the sea,
C            G                      C                    G
Butterlord, Butterlord,
C                Em
I'll pledge my land and sword,
C                    Em
To him who'll give some fine butter to me!
C                 G                    C         Em   Am

I was a merry knight,
Shining in mail bright,
Feasting on apples and roast beef and cheese,
But one thing wasn't right,
No butter lay in sight,
Spread without which my bread never could please

Hail, mighty Butterlord,
Master of dairies o'er
All of the lands from the steppe to the sea,
Butterlord, Butterlord,
I'll pledge my land and sword,
To him who'll give some fine butter to me!

I rode across the land,
Looters died by my hand,
But not a pat did I get for their pain,
In battle line did stand,
From ice to southern sand,
But never butter could ever I gain,

(CHORUS)

Now I'm a mighty lord,
Castles I can afford,
Family, companions stand there at my call,
But when I see what's stored,
Beer and wine, silks and swords,
There's never butter enough for my hall.

(CHORUS)

Smooth on my butterknife,
Praise it with lute and fife,
Finest of foodstuffs found under the sun,
Give me another life,
Take my shield, land, and wife,
Just give me butter to spread when I'm done!

(CHORUS)

[Jubal]

Moonlight Silks

A glow far above that my arm cannot reach,
   G                                    C
Like seven stars it shall shine
       G                             D
But love, beyond all shines the treasure in there,
   Em                                       G               Em
The love that you carry of mine
      C                                G

Behind curtains of
G
Moonlight silks,
Em           G
Soft hanging down,
G                  D
At my love's window,
D                  Em
I gaze through the night,
C                           G
You in the light
G            D
I in the shadow.
Em

A glow far above that my arm cannot reach,
Like seven stars it shall shine
But love, beyond all shines the treasure in there,
The love that you carry of mine

Behind curtains of
Moonlight silks,
Soft hanging down,
At my love's window,
I gaze through the night,
You in the light
I in the shadow.

We'll walk across rooftops and tatter our gowns,
With seven stars up above,
We'll lie not on divans or blankets of down,
The gardens will harbour our love

With the flowers like
Moonlight silks,
Soft hanging down,
At my love's window,
I gaze through the night,
You in the light
I in the shadow.

If I must break castles to see you I will,
If seven stars will allow,
My desert parched eyes can at last drink their fill,
Of love from your foot to your brow,

As you stand wrapped in
Moonlight silks,
Soft hanging down,
At my love's window,
I gaze through the night,
You in the light
I in the shadow.

When love is forbidden, and walls bid us part,
Night is the lover's last friend,
Until a day comes when the world lets us sing,
And never our love song shall end,

And we lie wrapped in
Moonlight silks,
Soft hanging down,
At my love's window,
I gaze through the night,
You are the light
I am the shadow.


Author's note: this song is primarily inspired by the Persian/Georgian romance Visramiani, the loves of Vis and Ramin. Breaking into castles and rooftop walks ending in secret garden trysts are just two of the numerous ways that Vis and Ramin end up coming up with to see one another, despite her being married to the powerful Moabad (who for his part is cursed never to be able to consummate his marriage to Vis). I can't remember if there's a direct reference to the seven stars in the Georgian Visramiani, but they do appear as planet-deity figures in contemporary works such as Rustaveli's Knight in Panther Skin.

[Jubal]

It's Almost Harvesting Season

It was almost harvest season,
          C           G            C
There were green leaves on the spray:
                   C                   G         Am
When it was almost harvest season,
                    C            G           C
They came to take my love away.
                    F             G       C

They said we'll need your bonny laddie,
                        C              G         C
For to face harsh battle's cry
                 C                     G
Then my blood ran cold within me,
             F               G               C
And I thought what to reply:
        C                           G

It was almost harvest season,
There were green leaves on the spray:
When it was almost havest season,
They came to take my love away.

They said we'll need your bonny laddie,
For to face harsh battle's cry,
Then my blood ran cold within me,
And I thought what to reply:

I said it's almost harvest season,
And the crops are growing tall,
You'll have to leave my bonny,
Or we'll ne'er gather it all.

So they left us with the harvest,
And they came right back next spring,
So I wondered what to tell them,
And I could only think one thing:

I said it's almost harvest season,
For why else would we sow and plow?
Yes it's almost harvest season,
When the bull harvests our cow.

It was autumn time they came next,
And our crops all gathered in,
We took baskets back into the fields,
And we all piped up to sing,

That it was almost harvest season,
Look the leaves are crisp and brown,
Yes it's almost harvest season,
Did you think they just fell down?

They came at last in barren winter,
I said there's no call for alarm,
We'll just tell them that it's harvest time,
And hope they don't know how to farm!

Oh yes it's nearly harvest season,
We'll be harvesting the snow,
Yes it's nearly harvest season,
It's a thing we farmers know,

So it's still nearly harvest season,
It will be till the day I die,
Oh yes it's nearly harvest season,
When the lord's men ride on by!

[dubsartur]

  I am sorry, I don't have the right kind of language in me any more.

  What are some of your inspirations?  I know of American filkers and folksong writers like Leslie Fish and Ray Zimmerman but not so much about Brits and Austrians.  I guess Steeleye Span set old ballads to new music and instruments but I didn't think they wrote their own lyrics so much.

  Edit: Heather Dale, Ada Palmer, and Andrew "Never Go Drinking with Michael" Heinrich come to mind in the first group; and then there are the early music people like Benjamin Bagby, the late Owain Pfyle, and Eberhard Kummerer.

[Ierne]

I really enjoyed that last one, its moving and amusing too

[Jubal]

My music tastes are reasonably broad and I think they all filter in a bit - a lot of it is just from listening to folk music from around the British isles, both modern practitioners and more traditional versions, and practising aping that style, of course. Jon Boden, Kris Drever, Nancy Kerr/James Fagan, Cara Dillon, Siobhan Miller, Alex Cumming/Nicola Beazley, Bellowhead, Show of Hands, and other such artists I guess would all be on the list there. My sister has done an album and toured along with her boyfriend, and I went to quite a lot of folk festivals between about 2011 and 2016, so I've got that sort of level of mild adjacency to the folk world.

On top of that, there's the extent to which this is in dialogue with filk and with bardic songs from videogames - I listen to Malukah and Alina Gingertail on the videogame music front, and Heather Dale's filky music is a pretty big influence there too. Adele McAllister does really nice covers of Tolkien's music, and his poetry is a clear lyrical influence for me (as probably are some other fantasy-poet writers, Ursula le Guin wrote some wonderful poems). And then there's the European modern sort-of-folky and sort of  pseudo/neo pagan music scene, groups like Faun for example, whose sound I quite like even if I have Many Questions about the aesthetics at times: Patty Gurdy also very worth mentioning there. I listen to soundtrack music quite a bit when working, it's harder to say how much influence that has but the works of people like Ean Grimm, the Fiechters, BrunuhVille, and Adrian von Ziegler are worth mentioning. And then there are all the other oddments, bits of sixties music, compilations of lute songs, random folk singers from other parts of the world I stumble upon, and some other singer songwriters - the songs of Pete Atkin & Clive James are way off this stuff in terms of sound and style, but some of my songwriting tendencies and my delight in oblique references definitely tie in with those.

I find that the most important thing anyway is to have a good idea-hook to write out from - once I have the plot or point of a song, much of the rest is just word juggling, especially if I'm doing it in a pretty standard folky style. My biggest sadness and regret with all my songs is seeing how good a quality of execution others manage with the instrumentation etc and knowing that a) I do not have the energy and time to learn five more instruments and spend many hours building up more instrumentals, and b) nobody particularly is likely to want to cover this stuff.

[Tusky]

nobody particularly is likely to want to cover this stuff.

I've got my guitar back and have been noodling around on it - I've been attempting to do some sort folky composition of your moonlight silks poem. I'm not a professional or anything but I'll send it to you once I'm happy with it, see what you think.

[Jubal]

The Lover's Cairn

The tower of stone stood watching,
       Am                             Em
There was ice on the darkling road,
                 Am                          Em
But there, a man in shining helm,
      F                         C
Yes, there, a man beneath the elm,
       F                           C
Stepped forth through the winter's cold.
              Am                        Em         Am

Alt chord set:


The tower of stone stood watching,
       C                             G
There was ice on the darkling road,
                 C                         G
But there, a man in shining helm,
      Am                         Em
Yes, there, a man beneath the elm,
       Am                           Em
Stepped forth through the winter's cold.
              Am                        Em         Am

The tower of stone stood watching,
There was ice on the darkling road,
But there, a man in shining helm,
Yes, there, a man beneath the elm,
Stepped forth through the winter's cold.

He'd a coat of shining ring-mail,
A bright sword hung at his side,
And there, up to the wall he'd call,
That there, the tower of stone should fall,
And he would claim his bride.

The tower of stone stood watching,
As the man his challenge roared,
And there, her face at the window,
Her hair like a veil of dark shadow,
And the young man's heart it soared.

He slew the guards at the gate-post,
He flew like a bird through the air,
Where there, a pillar cold as bone,
'midst elmwood beams held the tower's stone,
And his love was imprisoned there.

The castellan knew he was coming,
And thought him the maid to slay,
For envy rose within his heart,
That others loved where he could not,
Upon that bitterest day.

He smote her once with his spear-point,
Her hot blood ran at her breast,
But there, she'd a knife by her bedside,
A hidden blade for a stolen bride,
And stabbed him through the chest,

She dropped the knife in the chamber,
And her dress blooded and torn
And down she ran from the lamplight,
And down she ran to the cold night,
And called for her love and the morn

But he came up another staircase,
And saw the bloodied stains,
The castellan showed him the spear-head
And there, rags soaked in blood-red
And told him she was slain.

With a roar he set flames round him,
With a roar the pillar he smote
See there, fire glinting on his helm,
Yes, there, new cracks in stone and elm,
As it blackened his fine mail coat.

There's a pile of stones by the roadway,
A charred and blackened tomb,
And sometimes a white-haired lady,
A winter snow-haired lady,
An old and wistful lady,
Comes and weeps for her love and his doom.

I've got my guitar back and have been noodling around on it - I've been attempting to do some sort folky composition of your moonlight silks poem. I'm not a professional or anything but I'll send it to you once I'm happy with it, see what you think.

Lovely! I've got my own tune for it too but I'm super interested/excited to see what you come up with

[Jubal]

Oh, Gallant Hero

Oh, gallant hero,
Am           Em
Rise to the wars,
Am           G
The shade of the olive
      F                C
Is no longer yours,
    C            G
No longer yours is
  C             G
This peace in the sun
      Am              Em
Oh, gallant hero,
Am          C
Begone
Am

Oh, gallant hero,
Rise to the wars,
The shade of the olive
Is no longer yours,
No longer yours is
This peace in the sun
Oh, gallant hero,
Begone

Oh, gallant hero,
Battle draws near,
The shade of the olive
Is no shelter here,
No shelter here,
Under arrow-pierced skies,
Oh, gallant hero,
Arise

Oh, gallant hero,
Your bright spear awaits,
The shade of the olive
Shall not be your fate,
Not be your fate,
'til the last swordpoint falls,
Oh, gallant hero,
Fate calls

Oh, gallant hero,
For home you shall yearn,
The shade of the olive
Awaits your return,
Awaits your return,
Slain or victory blessed,
Oh, gallant hero,
To rest

[Jubal]

The Lavender Grave

When I am done,
Let mine be the grave that is covered in lavender,
So bushed that you can hardly see the name.
I will be beyond need of naming, in eternity.

Is there a better epitaph than this?
Where might have been bare stone and empty proclamation,
There the bee sucks, fragrance rises,
And deep around what once was human
Twine roots that draw from those last remnants
And return them as lavender,
Scent for the living,
One last work for the world to keep,
Until its use, too, passes.

Perhaps someone, sometime,
Will choose to brush aside the stems,
To see what name was carved upon the tomb -
But only because they saw and smelled and knew
What was left behind -
So much love and creation
That it grows in its own right,
With the fading name on the stone behind
Just a curiosity amid the joy.

So let mine be the grave that is covered in lavender -
For though I will be gone and will never know it,
It will be there
For those who can.

[Ierne]

That's a beautiful poem and I completely agree with it, too

(another favourite sentiment is - let mine be the grave that is puzzling to archaeologists

[Jubal]

Well that's easy, just have literally anything that doesn't conform to expectations in there Although I guess that doesn't usually cause confusion so much as misdiagnoses of "ritual purposes".

[Ierne]

oh gosh yes, 'probably ritual' as code for 'we have no idea' is one of the funniest things in archaeology XD
I'll take that