Love these little nuggets that you throw out, its great that after 50+ years of an album being released to still hear something new about it. Where did you collect the song itself?
Coincidently, “Carlow”, was the first song I ever learned! Was tunes up to that, then I got me hands on that famous green “Planxty Songbook” and started with “Carlow”, it became the bible back then! Looking at it now as I type its battered and bruised and full of, probably, porter stains, but still cherished!
Thanks Christy!
Christy's reply
I may have found it in the PW Joyce collection…not 100% sure but it was from a book….I don’t recall singing it prior to the Prosperous recording in 1971…must check does Andy Irvine have any pointers…
I love encountering old song books “battered and bruised with porter stains”..a sure sign of a book being properly used….sure beats lying pristine and unopened on a lonely shelf
“White is sick and Grey has fled
now for black Fitzwilliam’s head
we’ll send it over drippin red
to Queen Liza and her ladies”……( P.J. McColl)
……..the horror of this verse inspired by the centuries of murder and mayhem visited upon us by the cruelest of invaders
a later song from Ewan MacColl
Green Island
The island lies like a leaf upon the sea.
Green island like a leaf new-fallen from the tree.
Green turns to gold,
as morning breeze gently shakes the barley,
bending the yellow corn.
Green turns to gold,
there’s purple shadows on the distant mountains.
Sun in the yellow corn.
They came in their long ships from lands across the sea.
They came in their long ships – they saw the land was green.
Wind in the barley,
trout and salmon leaping in the rivers.
Sun in the yellow corn.
Leaping ashore
they slaughtered those laboured in the barley,
scything them down like corn.
The long ships sailed away and new invaders came.
With long bow and lance bringing death in England’s name.
With sword and with mace,
they went reaping though the fields of barley,
They plundered the yellow corn.
Crop followed crop,
they prospered in their killing fields of barley,
The harvest of new young corn.
Marching down the years the men of war they came,
with bombs, assassins, bullets, CS gas and guns.
Ghosts from the past
are chasing shadows through the fields of barley
hiding in the new young corn.
Nine hundred years
they tried to trap the wind that shakes the barley.
Sun in the yellow corn.
The island lies like a leaf upon the sea.
Green island like a leaf new-fallen from the tree.
Green turns to gold,
as morning breeze gently shakes the barley,
bending the yellow corn.
No force on Earth
can ever trap the wind that shakes the barley.
Sun in the yellow corn.
A lucky guess Christy.
Love these little nuggets that you throw out, its great that after 50+ years of an album being released to still hear something new about it. Where did you collect the song itself?
Coincidently, “Carlow”, was the first song I ever learned! Was tunes up to that, then I got me hands on that famous green “Planxty Songbook” and started with “Carlow”, it became the bible back then! Looking at it now as I type its battered and bruised and full of, probably, porter stains, but still cherished!
Thanks Christy!
I may have found it in the PW Joyce collection…not 100% sure but it was from a book….I don’t recall singing it prior to the Prosperous recording in 1971…must check does Andy Irvine have any pointers…
I love encountering old song books “battered and bruised with porter stains”..a sure sign of a book being properly used….sure beats lying pristine and unopened on a lonely shelf
“White is sick and Grey has fled
now for black Fitzwilliam’s head
we’ll send it over drippin red
to Queen Liza and her ladies”……( P.J. McColl)
……..the horror of this verse inspired by the centuries of murder and mayhem visited upon us by the cruelest of invaders
a later song from Ewan MacColl
Green Island
The island lies like a leaf upon the sea.
Green island like a leaf new-fallen from the tree.
Green turns to gold,
as morning breeze gently shakes the barley,
bending the yellow corn.
Green turns to gold,
there’s purple shadows on the distant mountains.
Sun in the yellow corn.
They came in their long ships from lands across the sea.
They came in their long ships – they saw the land was green.
Wind in the barley,
trout and salmon leaping in the rivers.
Sun in the yellow corn.
Leaping ashore
they slaughtered those laboured in the barley,
scything them down like corn.
The long ships sailed away and new invaders came.
With long bow and lance bringing death in England’s name.
With sword and with mace,
they went reaping though the fields of barley,
They plundered the yellow corn.
Crop followed crop,
they prospered in their killing fields of barley,
The harvest of new young corn.
Marching down the years the men of war they came,
with bombs, assassins, bullets, CS gas and guns.
Ghosts from the past
are chasing shadows through the fields of barley
hiding in the new young corn.
Nine hundred years
they tried to trap the wind that shakes the barley.
Sun in the yellow corn.
The island lies like a leaf upon the sea.
Green island like a leaf new-fallen from the tree.
Green turns to gold,
as morning breeze gently shakes the barley,
bending the yellow corn.
No force on Earth
can ever trap the wind that shakes the barley.
Sun in the yellow corn.