It's a Great Day for the Irish is an Irish-American song that was written in 1940 by Roger Edens, one of the many musical directors at the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer studios under the leadership of Arthur Freed for inclusion in the film version of the George M. Cohan 1922 Broadway show Little Nellie Kelly, directed by Norman Taurog. The rights of the show were sold to MGM by Cohan as a starring vehicle for the young Judy Garland. The song was partly written to capitilize on Garland's Irish roots which she identified with (Garland was a quarter Irish through her maternal grandmother Eva Fitzpatrick) [1]. The new song was to be used in a recreation of New York's famed annual St. Patrick's Day Parade marching up Fifth Avenue. It was to be a major production number requiring the New York Street set on the backlot to be enlarged, involving the main characters of the film and showcasing the young Garland's enormously strong voice and engaging performance style as she sang and danced up the avenue with her father, played by George Murphy, her stereotypical grandfather (played by Charles Winninger) and her boyfriend (Douglas McPhail). The movie was well received, but is now most remembered for the rousing song it introduced into Irish-American culture and as Garland's only death scene on film.

The song was originally recorded by Garland on Decca Records in 1940 as a single with another song from the film, "A Pretty Girl Milking Her Cow", on the B-side. The song was a tremendous hit for her and the original Decca version remained in print from 1940 through the late 1980s. It was recorded several more times throughout her career with the last time being at the "London Sessions" under the musical direction of Norrie Paramor for Capitol Records in 1962. She often sang it live, particularly in concerts in Ireland and the UK where audiences clapped, sang along and danced in the aisles. During her famed Amsterdam, the Netherlands concert the audience stomped their feet and demanded the song to which Garland giggled and replied "well okay - its very loud" One particular review of a show wrote, "she shook the walls with her raucous rendition". The lively song included a special verse of difficult tongue-twisting rhyming Irish surnames and places, that seemed to thunder from Garland's throat effortlessly. The song was popular on jukeboxes in Irish Pubs and was recorded by numerous other Irish artists such as: Carmel Quinn, Bing Crosby, Ruby Murray, Daniel O'Donnell and The Clancy Brothers among others. Italian-American singer Connie Francis also recorded the song.

The song went on to become a worldwide St. Patrick's Day anthem and its familiar strains are heard on the occasion around the world annually. The lively upbeat song is a favourite played by military and school marching bands everywhere and is now a standard sound for the "Great Day" as popular as "The Wearing of the Green" and has been firmly embedded in Irish-American culture.

Red and yellow and pink and green,
Purple and orange and blue,
I can sing a rainbow,
Sing a rainbow,
Sing a rainbow too!

As long as I remember
We've marched across this land
Oh, oh...
Reached for a new horizon
Pulled by the killing hand
Oh, oh...
All fed up with lies
The Time has come
To Break these chains and fly
Here we stand, bound forever more
We're out of this world, until the end
Here we are, mighty, glorious
At The End Of The Rainbow
With gold in our hands
We know the treasure lies
Beyond the pouring rain
Oh, oh...
Our quest will last forever
For It's all the same
Oh, oh...
No one can deny
Our future's set
To Reach above the sky
Let's fly away through the rain
Fly high, to ease the burning pain
Oh, the colours fading out
The light is shining in the night
It's up to you, it's worth the fight
Search before the colours fade

Again,
At the end of the rainbow
Again,
No gold to be found
Just this cold unmade bed
The last 3 words you said
And this buzzing on the telephone line

Paris, well, there is fog on the Seine
Amsterdam still courses through my veins
All these dark crazy sights,
Wouldn't be so bad
If I could just taste your breath once again

Honey I saw your daddy
Lying by the roadside
His feet sticking out of a sack
Honey they'll be calling
To tell you that your daddy
Never will be coming back

Again
At the end of the rainbow
Again,
No words to be found
Just this voice sad and alone
Me wishing I was home
And the silence on the telephone line

Oh when the veil of dreams has lifted,
And the fairy tales have all been told,
There's a kiss at the end of the rainbow;
More precious than a pot of gold.

In tales of ancient glory,
Every knight and maiden fair shall be joined when the quest is over,
And a kiss is the oath that they swear.


At the end of a rainbow, you'll find a pot of gold
At the end of a story, you'll find it's all been told
But our love has a treasure our hearts always spend
And it has a story without any end

So keep on looking for that rainbow 

Start again 

I hope you find the rainbow 

Rainbow`s end

But deep inside something lets me know
Though history still turns its pages
I will track you through the ages
And we will meet again
Somewhere at the end of the rainbow
At the end of the rainbow
 
As you walk through this world I'll be there
With you wherever you may go
And although you'll never see me
One day you're gonna need me
At the end of the rainbow

the Galway girl

well, i took a stroll on the old long walk

of a day-i-ay-i-ay

i met a little girl and i stopped to talk

of a fine soft day-i-ay

and i ask you friend, what's a fella to do

'cause her hair's black and her eyes are blue

and i knew right then i'd be takin' a whirl

'round the Salthill Prom with a Galway girl

we were half way there when the rain came down

of a day-i-ay-i-ay

and she asked me up to her flat downtown

of a fine soft day-i-ay

and i ask you friend, what's a fella to do

'cause her hair's black and her eyes were blue

i took her hand and i gave her a twirl

and i lost my heart to a Galway girl

when i woke up i was all alone

with a broken heart and a ticket home

and i ask you now, tell me what would you do

if her hair's black and her eyes are blue

i've travelled around i've been all over this world

boy i ain't never seen nothin' like a Galway girl

Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,
From glen to glen and down the mountain side;
The summer's gone, and all the leaves are falling;
'Tis ye, 'tis ye must go, and I must bide.

But come ye back when summer's in the meadow,
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow;
'Til I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow;
Danny boy, Oh Danny boy, I love you so.

And when ye come and all the flowers are dying,
If I am dead, as dead I well may be.
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying,
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

And I shall hear, 'though soft ye tread around me,
And all my grave shall linger sweeter be,
Then ye will bend and tell me that ye love me,
And I shall sleep in peace until ye come to me.

leuven, 20 aprile 2003, mark and maurice for caro

There's a tear in your eye

And I'm wondering why
For it never should be there at all

With such pow'r in your smile
Sure a stone you'd beguile
So there's never a teardrop should fall

When your sweet lilting laughter's
Like some fairy song
And your eyes twinkle
Bright as can be
You should laugh all the while
And all other times smile
And now smile a smile for me

When Irish eyes are smiling
Sure it's like a morn in spring
In the lilt of Irish laughter
You can hear the angels sing

When Irish hearts are happy
All the world seems bright and gay
And when Irish eyes are smiling
Sure they steal your heart away

Penna bianche simili a dune

si muovono sotto il tramonto

e lungo il margine del mondo.

(indiani Papago, Penne bianche al margine del mondo)

Il cervo

guarda un fiore.

(indiani Yuman e Yaqui, Il cervo e il fiore)

Cominciamo il canto del feticcio;

Cominciamo il canto del feticcio.

E' difficile ma io ci provo;

La notte aumenta rumorosamente.

S'innalza il canto del feticcio;

S'innalza il canto del feticcio.

Ad esso vanno le impazzite donne;

Ad esso vanno le impazzite donne.

Pietà di me! Oh, pietà di me!

E porta via il male mio;

Porta ora via il male mio;

Toglilo col canto.

Vado al canto.

Vado al canto.

Esso è guida alla montagna,

Corsa al Monte Sievat.

(dalla costa sud-occidentale, Il canto del feticcio)

Dall'acqua sabbiosa respiro l'odore

del mare;

di à giunge il vento e soffia

sopra la terra.

Dall'acqua sabbiosa respiro l'odore

del mare;

di là vengon le nubi e cade la pioggia

sul mondo.

(indiani Papago, Il vento soffia dal mare)

Sulla montagna

la noia del vento.

(indiani Ute settentrionali, Canto di danza)

Del vento

soltanto

ho paura.

(indiani Chippewa, Canto degi alberi)

E' sorta la stella del mattino.

Attraverso le montagne

nella luce del mare.

(indiani Papago, La stella del mattino)

il Consiglio si è riunito per deliberare ed ha così deciso :

Carolina ospiterà due sloveni, uno di 20 e uno di 29 anni, come su richiesta

ora si impegnerà affinchè questi due ragazzi possano trascorrere quattro giorni indimenticabili....dal punto di vista inequivocabilmente folkloristico, s'intenda

Signore, che hai posto la Tua mano su ogni uomo,

che consideri importante il nostro vivere, il nostro suonare, il nostro danzare,

fa che ci sia possibile per lungo tempo onorarTi diffondendo nel mondo la gioia

di essere figli della nostra terra, di essere bandiera del nostro popolo, di essere tesoro delle nostre tradizioni.

Dacci la forza di mantenere salde le nostre radici.

Dacci il conforto di sapere che tutt'intorno, per nostro mezzo, cresca l'amore tra i popoli, senza confini.

E Tu, Madre di Dio, posa il Tuo occhio turchino sulle nostre famiglie, sulla nostra gente, sul nostro domani.

E che arrivi in Cielo con la nostra preghiera l'eterna armonia del nostro cantare.

E così sia.

yuppy ya!! yuppy ye!!

TIPICO URLO FOLK IRLANDESE DA LIBERARE PREFERIBILMENTE QUANDO SI è ALLE PRESE CON UN JIG !!

Ancora qualche tempo fa, la domenica si potevano osservare, già in prima mattinata, gruppi di uomini dal volto rubino percorrere strade e stradine della Liguria per santificare la festività con pagane processioni, su percorsi prestabiliti, agli 'oratori' (..le osterie..) opportunamente sistemati in posizione strategica.

Ogni 'oratorio' rappresentava una tappa di meditazione sulle verità filosofiche indicate dal gran maestro Bacco e divulgate, nei secoli, da fitte schiere di seguaci in ogni parte del mondo. Di meditazione in meditazione ( aumentando il carico di barbera che scendeva nei ventri arsi dalla sete per risalire in fuochi d'artificio a stimolare i cervelli) si articolavano, sempre più azzardati, i canti che davano sostanza estetica alla scomposta liturgia bacchina ch eculminava, verso sera con l'intonazione degli stornelli dell' "Olidin". Alla melodia musicale semplice e incalzante, rilanciata ogni volta dal 'riff ' -olidin, olidin,. olidena...- si riagganciavano le parole delle strofe ormai confiscate.

Ma la vera maestria consisteva nell'improvvisazione su un tema proposto a caso da un 'pedale' ( quasi sempre riferito a fatti e persone noti in paese) che, quando riusciva bene, scatenava ilarità e commenti maligni. Si trattava, raccolto l'invito tematico, di organizzare rapidamente le idee (ormai in subbuglio per il vino) con realizzazione spontanea e immediata del testo, in giusto rapporto metrico con la musica, perfettamente rimato, pungente.

Quasi sempre, caduta ormai ogni inibizione, la più pesante volgarità forniva un punto d'appoggio per una soluzione che altrimenti non sarebbe mai arrivata.

Qualche volta, invece, ( si trattava di talenti, veri maestri del genere) la risposta era sottile, ricca, nella sua brevità, di intuibili richiami grotteschi che colpivano spietatamente chi era coinvolto nella considerazione.

Ai giorni nostri, la progressiva chiusura dei 'luoghi di culto' ha portato via con sé anche la pratica dell'olidin, se si eccettua qualche sporadica 'rassegna speciale' a chiusura di moderne mangiate.

Altri sono oggi i modi della volgarità.

may the road rise up to meet you

may the wind be always at your back

may the sun shine warm upon your face

and the rain fall soft upon your tramp

and until, until we meet again may God hold you safely in the palm of His hands

may the hills come down to greet you

may the rocks give shelter in their stones

may the dust be soft beneath your feet

and the dark give rest before the dawn

and until, until we meet again may God hold you safely in th epalm of His hands

may your life have many memories

may your death be sweet and full of peace

may your hope last in eternity

and your joy carry on in every seas

and until we meet again may God hold you safely in the palm of His hands

dedicato a tutti i FOLKLORISTI incontrati dal 27 settembre 2002 ad oggi

tante foreste strappate alla terra

massacrate

finite

rotativizzate

Tante foreste sacrificate per fornire la carta ai miliardi di giornali che ogni anno attirano l'attenzione dei lettori sui rischi del disboscamento