Marta Bellini...ou...The World Turned Upside Down... ou de ponta cabeça como dizemos em São Paulo!

Marta Bellini: lembrei-me da música que melhor poderia dar conta do que você pensa e sente, neste mundo virado de ponta cabeça...

sexta-feira, 30 de julho de 2010

Contrariando a maré....

O segredo do insucesso é querer agradar a todos. (Provérbio, cap-tirado de um texto lá no Blog do Solda. E como penso que é impossível agradar a todos, o que é igual a mentir a todos...) Taí!

E segue a letra da música, muito irônica e certeira:

The World Turned Upside Down

The text of this ballad is drawn from the Thomason Tracts (669. f. 10 (47)), where it is dated 8 April 1646. In it, the author decries the passing of all the favorite English Christmas traditions which he feels were killed at the Battle of Naseby in 1645.

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The World Turned Upside Down

To the Tune of, When the King enioys his own again.

Listen to me and you shall hear, news hath not been this thousand year: Since Herod, Caesar, and many more, you never heard the like before. Holy-dayes are despis'd, new fashions are devis'd. Old Christmas is kickt out of Town. Yet let's be content, and the times lament, you see the world turn'd upside down. The wise men did rejoyce to see our Savior Christs Nativity: The Angels did good tidings bring, the Sheepheards did rejoyce and sing. Let all honest men, take example by them. Why should we from good Laws be bound? Yet let's be content, &c. Command is given, we must obey, and quite forget old Christmas day: Kill a thousand men, or a Town regain, we will give thanks and praise amain. The wine pot shall clinke, we will feast and drinke. And then strange motions will abound. Yet let's be content, &c. Our Lords and Knights, and Gentry too, doe mean old fashions to forgoe: They set a porter at the gate, that none must enter in thereat. They count it a sin, when poor people come in. Hospitality it selfe is drown'd. Yet let's be content, &c. The serving men doe sit and whine, and thinke it long ere dinner time: The Butler's still out of the way, or else my Lady keeps the key, The poor old cook, in the larder doth look, Where is no goodnesse to be found, Yet let's be content, &c. To conclude, I'le tell you news that's right, Christmas was kil'd at Naseby fight: Charity was slain at that same time, Jack Tell troth too, a friend of mine, Likewise then did die, rost beef and shred pie, Pig, Goose and Capon no quarter found. Yet let's be content, and the times lament, you see the world turn'd upside down.