the descriptive joys of Japanese literature

[timeripple]

So, you know that part in the Chushingura where everybody commits seppuku?

And in Happier News (or Maybe Not):

I too have joined the ranks of poor grovelling souls contriving to obtain an iPod. *ponders* Now, would that be in indirect discourse, or would a simple participle suffice? I think I'll go with the participle. I wonder how one might grovel in H&Q-land. It might become necessary, were one to steal a goat intending that it might bear the having-been-stolen wine out of the marketplace. For the hoplites, on the one hand, the ones having come from the ship, must be educated by Homer's brother. On the other hand, we are intending to give the having-been-stolen wine, a gift/bribe, to Homer's brother, so that we may not be indicted by him.

*runs from H&Q-withdrawal-craziness*

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

so sorry that you're in a bad mood. have two new songs to cheer you up, though! first is a shanty from our capitain, though a different version & second is a sea song from a guest lecturer. :) hope this helps to improve your mood.

A Rovin’ /Maid of Amsterdam

In Amsterdam there lived a maid
Mark you well what I say!
In Amsterdam there lives a maid,
And this fair maid my trust betrayed

Chorus: I'll go no more a rovin, with you fair maid
A roving, A roving, since roving's been my ru-i-in,
I'll go no more a roving, with you fair maid

Her eyes are like two stars so bright
Mark you well what I say
Her eyes are like two stars so bright,
Her face is fair, her step is light.

I asked this fair maid to take a walk,
Mark well what I do say
I asked this maid out for a walk
That we might have some private talk.

Then I took this fair maid's lily white hand,
Mark well what I do say
I took this fair maid's lily white hand
In mine as we walked along the strand.

Then I put my arm around her waist
Mark well what I do say!
For I put my arm around her waist
And from her lips snatched a kiss in haste!

Then a great big Dutchman rammed my bow
Mark well what I do say
For a great big Dutchman rammed my bow,
And said, "Young man, dis bin mein vrow!”

Then take warning boys, from me,
Mark well what I do say!
So take a warning, boys, from me,
With other men's wives don't make too free.

For if you do you will surely rue
Mark well what I do say!
For if you do you will surely rue
Your act, and find my words come true.

A Rovin’ version #2

In Portsmouth town there lived a maid
Mark well what I do say!
In Portsmouth town there lived a maid
The British Navy was her trade,
I'll go no more a-rovin' with you fair maid.

Chorus: A-rovin', a-rovin', since rovin's been my ru-i-in
I'll go no more a-rovin' with you fair maid.

She swore to me that she was true
Mark well what I do say!
She's true to me, she's true to you
She's true to the whole damn Navy, too
I'll go no more a-rovin' with you fair maid.

I put me hand upon her toe
Mark well what I do say!
I put me hand upon her toe
Sez she, "Young man, you're rather low"
I'll go no more a-rovin' with you fair maid.

Optional Verses:
I took this maid out for a walk
Mark well what I do say—
I took this maid out for a walk
And we had such a lovely talk;
I’ll go no more a rovin’ with you, fair maid

I didn’t tell her stories two,
Mark well what I do say—
I didn’t tell her stories two,
Of the gold we found in Timbuktu!
I’ll go no more a rovin’ with you, fair maid

I sat this maid upon my knee,
Mark well what I do say—
I sat this maid upon my knee,
Said she, “Piss Off, and let me be!”
I’ll go no more a rovin’ with you, fair maid

Now if you’d know this maiden’s name,
Mark well what I do say—
Now if you’d know this maiden’s name,
Why soon, like mine, ‘twill be the same.
I’ll go no more a rovin’ with you, fair maid

One night I crept from my abode
Mark etc.
One night I crept from my abode
To meet this fair maid down the road
I'll go
I met this fair maid after dark
And took her to her favorite park.

I took this fair maid for a walk
And we had such a loving talk.
I put me arm around her waist
Sez she, "Young man, you're in great haste!"

I put my hand upon her knee
Sez she, "Young man you're rather free!"
I put my hand upon her thigh
Sez she, "Young man you're rather high!"

She sore that she'd be true to me
But spent me pay-day fast and free
In three weeks time I was badly bent
Then off to sea I sadly went.

In a bloodboat Yank bound round Cape Horn
Me boots and clothes were all in pawn
Bound up Cape Stiff through ice and snow
And up the coast to Cally-o

An' then back to the Liverpool Docks
Saltpeter stowed in our boots an' socks
Now when I got home from sea
A soger had her on his knee.


-melanie :)

[(Anonymous)]

since i couldn't fit the last song on the previous post, here it is:

I Was Once a Sailor

Yes, I was once a sailor lad.
I plowed the restless sea.
I saw the sky look fair and glad
And I felt proud and free.

I breathed the air of many a clime,
Saw beauties fair and gay.
My hopes were fixed on future time
The present slipped away.

Experience and hope's brilliant view
Like mist dissolved away.
I found small harvest did accrue
To plowmen of the sea.

I found my team would rage and rove.
'Twas but the fickle wind
That, plowing o'er the rolling sea,
No furrow left behind.

Days have passed by. I'm snug on shore,
Safe from the sea's alarms.
I have a never failing store:
A fifteen-acre farm.

Oh, sweet it is to till the soil
'Neath our New England sky,
And sweet when I have eased my toil
To muse on days gone by.

enjoy & hope you feel better!

-melanie

[timeripple.livejournal.com]

Pretty songs make Fiona happy!

i know that one!

[(Anonymous)]

that one's on a cd i have. it's fun. i also know haul away joe (from the last fiona post comments) - my dad sings it. but i didn't know all of those verses, so that's fun.

hope everyone's doing well, i got my fiddle in the mail a week or so ago and finally took it out and practiced this afternoon :) for fiona's edification, my brand new fiddle book is called "cruinn comhla: the well travelled fiddler's session collection" compiled and arranged by christine martin and anne hughes, publised on the isle of skyeby taigh na teud, www.scotlandsmusic.com in case you're interested.

i started reading "the promise" by chaim potok (sequel to "the chosen", his best-known book) and now i'm totally absorbed and can't do anything but read it. which is unfortunate, because my assignment for this week is to read a different book, about michigan conservation, which is SO INCREDIBLY BORING BEYOND BELIEF THAT MY HEAD EXPLODES every time i even think about reading it. really it's not so bad, it's just that none of it seems to be even relavent to what we're doing - they only talk about the parts of michigan that we're not studying, and when they do talk about our study area it's only about the parts of our study area that we're not studying (we're studying land use - they talk about the water and air polution).

anyone who's interested in arguing about religion, feminism and nietzsche, take a peek at community. i met a woman last night at temple who just got her doctorate in feminist philosophy, she's a brandeis grad and she knew the town of wellesley because her roommate in college was from there!

in other news - i watched bastard out of carolina last night. it was good, and well acted, but i would not recommend it. *ouch* is the only reaction. (it's about child abuse)
and (drumroll please) ... i am finally going to get a cell phone! if my mom ever gets her act together, that is. verison gave her a deal where i can share her minutes, get a cheap phone, and only pay not so much each month. this means that if anyone calls me on it before 9 on a weekday, they will not be able to talk for more than the three seconds it takes to say "i'll call you back after 9", but i will be able to have lengthy conversations for free any other time (i.e. from 9pm-6am on weekdays and after 9pm on fridays-6am on mondays). i will let people know my phone number once my mom gets around to setting up the account and sending me my phone :)

Re: i know that one!

[timeripple.livejournal.com]

for fiona's edification, my brand new fiddle book is called "cruinn comhla: the well travelled fiddler's session collection" compiled and arranged by christine martin and anne hughes, publised on the isle of skyeby taigh na teud

Edification also makes Fiona happy. I have the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th Ceilidh Collections, also compiled by Christine Martin and Anne Hughes, also published on Skye by Taigh na Teud. The wacky illustrations are most amusing.

Re: i know that one!

[(Anonymous)]

crap, i just wrote a whole thing and now it's gone. double crap. oh well. i'll type it again. blah.

i think i saw the ceilidh collections when i bought my book, but decided that this one was cooler. or less expensive, i don't remember. mine doesn't have illustrations though :( but it does have nifty tunes, which i have begun to learn:)

< rant> (which totally loses its point when you're typing it a second time, but i'll try to get all annoyed again)
has anyone else had this experience? because i have experienced it twice now, and i am bewildered. maybe it's a michigan thing:
i'm sitting in a university library in a big space with lots of computers and tables and chairs and people working at stuff - quietly, i might add, and a guy comes in with his shirt tucked into ironed slacks and his hair parted and he's holding a bible. he proceeds to inform us something to the effect that the wages of sin are death, and then also feels the need to give numerous examples not only of these sins (which will, apparently, most certainly lead to horrendous torture in the afterlife if one neglects to accept the lord jesus christ into one's heart), but also of the full extent of the definitions of these sins (apparently, if one feels angry at someone, they might as well have killed the person as god sees it). twice, this has happened to me (once just now, hence the fresh annoyance). and with nearly identical speeches, too. this bothers me for a number of reasons, the easily justifiable one of which is that this is a public library, not a soapbox, no matter how important the message. if everyone who felt really convicted about something decided to get up and give a short lecture in spaces in the library, no one would be able to get any work done, although i have to say it would be interesting. being the only one with the gall to get up in a public but designated as quiet space and tell everyone how you think they should be living their lives (i don't see any rabbis going around and doing this) does not mean you've earned the right to do so. anyone who knows me knows that i am totally eager to hear people talk about things like this in many situations, and have chosen to subject myself to such on many occasions. but i don't want to be lectured when i'm trying to get work done (or reading fanfic, which makes the whole conversation here even more interesting), in a place for being quiet, by someone i've never seen before in my life. i doubt he's winning over many people... < /rant>

siena

[kaequest.livejournal.com]

So, you know that part in the Chushingura where everybody commits seppuku?

hee hee, isn't it wonderful how when you feel at your worst, you can always consult japanese literaure and feel immediately better about your own precarious situation?

[timeripple.livejournal.com]

Indeed. I now present The Narrow Road to the Deep North Summarized by Fiona

Batty old fellow
goes on road trip, writes haiku.
Students unamused.

[kayselkiemoon.livejournal.com]

It might become necessary, were one to steal a goat intending that it might bear the having-been-stolen wine out of the marketplace. For the hoplites, on the one hand, the ones having come from the ship, must be educated by Homer's brother. On the other hand, we are intending to give the having-been-stolen wine, a gift/bribe, to Homer's brother, so that we may not be indicted by him.

good lord. *pats on back* don't worry dear, the drug we know as Greek class shall return soon. you're lucky you seem to do well on it (I didn't).

[timeripple.livejournal.com]

I didn't even mention the dream in which my class was sitting around being zoographoi drawing pictures and discussing the finer points of goat-sacrificing.
...
Yeah.