Come back, Melanie! . . . I didn't mean it!

Perhaps I did. But in dissing a couple of Melanie Safka songs, I think I may have thrown the reborn baby out with the baptismal bath water.

This is a really good song! I heard Nana Mouskouri sing it decades ago, but never thought to ask/find out who wrote it. We had no internet then, and to find anything like that out you had to grub around trying to read record labels in the dark, splashing wine all over them.

So now, all these years later, it all joins up.

It took me a few tries to find a version I really like (and I posted the Mouskouri one before deciding it was really too pretty for the Safka offbeat style/sardonic lyrics). The one you see most often on YouTube is a very early performance in which she sits alone onstage with her guitar, looking about 20 years old and frankly terrified. That one bothers me for reasons I can't articulate. She looks nervous and coughs, as if she'd rather not be there. I also found one from the Mike Douglas Show - why does that show now seem so utterly crass, while Dick Cavett is still semi-bearable? - but it struck me as over-produced, almost country-westernish, and the song got lost. But then I found this one.

The words are all there, so I don't need to do any of those lame little things with lyrics and photos and gifs and PicMixes! But my life would be nothing without such sad little diversions. Such as this.

Νάνα Μούσχουρη - ΚΑΘΕ ΤΡΕΛΟ ΠΑΙΔΙ

This has a history, too, a very long one. I loved this song for years, at least since the late '70s, but had no idea what the words meant. On the British Concert Album, Nana Mouskouri announced the title as "Wilderness", so I assumed it was about a long, lonely walk through a barren landscape, or perhaps through a dark forest full of frightening sounds. Turns out it has nothing to do with any of that! 

Since I am having trouble seeing the subtitles, I assume you will too, so I will transcribe:

That daybreak
I said good morning to him, oh, oh.
That daybreak
I said good morning to him, oh, oh.

Every madcap young man
is holding in his hand
a kiss given by Virgin Mary
and a knife

and his mother doesn't sing
and his mother doesn't sing.

When someone's slaughtering two doves
the night is burning in his two hands
and the girl doesn't speak

and the girl doesn't speak.


It's a strange, spare, paradoxical and somewhat frightening poem about the duality of humankind, the beauty and the violence of youth, and the ways in which people are silenced by fear - or does it mean something else? What's a madcap young man, anyway? Now that I finally have the English lyrics, it's more mysterious than ever. (I did find the composer's name - Manos Hadjidakis - vaguely familiar, though I don't know if he also wrote these incredible words.) 


http://margaretgunnng.blogspot.com/2012/01/synopsis-glass-character-novel-by.html

http://members.shaw.ca/margaret_gunning/betterthanlife.htm                                                  

Outward Bound

Outward bound upon a ship that sails no ocean
Outward bound, it has no crew but me and you
All alone when just a minute ago the shore was filled with people
With people that we knew

Outward bound upon a journey without ending
Outward bound, uncharted waters beneath our bow
Far behind, the green familiar shore is fading into time
And time has left us now

So farewell, adieu, so long, vaya con Dios
May they find whatever they are looking for
Remember when the wine was better than ever again
We could not ask, we could not ask for more

Outward bound upon a ship with tattered sail
Outward bound upon a crooked lonesome trail
Things we learn, we'll just be satisfied in knowing
And we'll tell it to our kids as a fairy tale

So farewell, adieu, so long, vaya con Dios
May they find whatever they are looking for
Remember when the wine was better than ever again
We could not ask, we could not ask for more

http://members.shaw.ca/margaret_gunning/betterthanlife.htm