CCCLXXXIX. LIGETI, György (1923-2006)
[prehistoric Ligeti]
"There were two ways to avoid the obligatory 'progressive' texts: one was turning to folklore; another was taking refuge in the poems of the classic Hungarian authors who had written their works before Lenin seized power. The Four Wedding Dances are typical of the first way out. (I wrote about 50 folksong arrangements like these.) Hungarian and Romanian folklore were familiar to me from my childhood in Transylvania, and my love for folk music was so strong that I persuaded myself that I was writing it spontaneously and from conviction (at first!).
"There were two ways to avoid the obligatory 'progressive' texts: one was turning to folklore; another was taking refuge in the poems of the classic Hungarian authors who had written their works before Lenin seized power. The Four Wedding Dances are typical of the first way out. (I wrote about 50 folksong arrangements like these.) Hungarian and Romanian folklore were familiar to me from my childhood in Transylvania, and my love for folk music was so strong that I persuaded myself that I was writing it spontaneously and from conviction (at first!).
FOUR WEDDING DANCES
(Adaptations of Hungarian folksongs)
(Adaptations of Hungarian folksongs)
I. A bride is a splendid flower,
Her chaplet is a pearly flower,
Do you know who the happy groom is,
The one who claims that beauty as his?
A pearl chaplet is she, the bride,
And I was the only one who cried.
Everything around the bride's heart
Throbs from happiness and delight.
There are flowers on the bough,
Her hair is crowned with flower-bows;
Flowers are there, but soon will fade,
And soon the girl will wed her mate.
Come on, my love, come fast,
My heart waits for you, come at last!
I want you and have waited so long,
That kissing you cannot be so wrong.
The girl grows winsome as she grows,
The wind plays with her hair and growls,
She doesn't know what sorrow is,
If she but has other girls to play with,
But when the girl is taken as a spouse,
A bird in a cage, a locked-up house,
Then will she learn about real sorrow,
For she parts from happiness tomorrow.
Her chaplet is a pearly flower,
Do you know who the happy groom is,
The one who claims that beauty as his?
A pearl chaplet is she, the bride,
And I was the only one who cried.
Everything around the bride's heart
Throbs from happiness and delight.
There are flowers on the bough,
Her hair is crowned with flower-bows;
Flowers are there, but soon will fade,
And soon the girl will wed her mate.
Come on, my love, come fast,
My heart waits for you, come at last!
I want you and have waited so long,
That kissing you cannot be so wrong.
The girl grows winsome as she grows,
The wind plays with her hair and growls,
She doesn't know what sorrow is,
If she but has other girls to play with,
But when the girl is taken as a spouse,
A bird in a cage, a locked-up house,
Then will she learn about real sorrow,
For she parts from happiness tomorrow.
II. A surrey arrived at the gate,
A chap has come to seek a mate,
But the girl is obstinate,
She hopes for quite another fate.
The blanket is not woven,
The berth lies empty, without a feather.
The feather is still in the pond,
And the wild duck still carries it.
Thin little thread and tall hemp stalk,
Don't stay on the shelf, my dove,
Bold chicken, duck and wild goose,
I am the one that you should choose.
III. Hop on the duckboards, stay spick-and-span,
I'll never be a bridesmaid again;
If I'll be something, I'll be the bride,
And then the most seemly, to look at with pride.
I was proposed to by ten gentle young men,
Give me your wisdom, which one to choose, then,
Which one would make me a winner?
Which will yield a flower, not just a dry stalk?
IV. If my darling Uncle Laci played me a nice tune,
I would choose a blue-eyed love and soon,
Come on now and go, jingling spurs,
Give me no grief, no curse,
My darling angel.
Yesterday, I reaped the oat, today I'll go and bind it,
My dear uncle has gone away somewhere,
I must find him.
Come on, now, go, jingling spurs ...
The queen in the roadside tavern is jolly and cheerful,
She thinks she is worth a hundred gold coins or more,
Come no, now, go, jingling spurs ...
A chap has come to seek a mate,
But the girl is obstinate,
She hopes for quite another fate.
The blanket is not woven,
The berth lies empty, without a feather.
The feather is still in the pond,
And the wild duck still carries it.
Thin little thread and tall hemp stalk,
Don't stay on the shelf, my dove,
Bold chicken, duck and wild goose,
I am the one that you should choose.
III. Hop on the duckboards, stay spick-and-span,
I'll never be a bridesmaid again;
If I'll be something, I'll be the bride,
And then the most seemly, to look at with pride.
I was proposed to by ten gentle young men,
Give me your wisdom, which one to choose, then,
Which one would make me a winner?
Which will yield a flower, not just a dry stalk?
IV. If my darling Uncle Laci played me a nice tune,
I would choose a blue-eyed love and soon,
Come on now and go, jingling spurs,
Give me no grief, no curse,
My darling angel.
Yesterday, I reaped the oat, today I'll go and bind it,
My dear uncle has gone away somewhere,
I must find him.
Come on, now, go, jingling spurs ...
The queen in the roadside tavern is jolly and cheerful,
She thinks she is worth a hundred gold coins or more,
Come no, now, go, jingling spurs ...
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