Romancero de Champagne

Le Chant des Brandons
1er Dimanche de Carême

Saint panceau, qui n'a pas soupé,
s'il vous plaît de lui en donner!
Taillez haut,
taillez bas
Un bon morceau
Au milieu du plat.
Si vous n'avez pas de couteau,
Donnez tout le morceau;
La jambe de fer,
Qui court comme un cerf;
La jambe de bo(i)s, [adding "i" per math5's suggestion]
Qui reste au culot,
Si vous ne voulez rin donner;
Trois fourchettes,
trois fourchettes.
Si vous ne voulez rin donner;
Trois fourchettes,
Dâ vô gozier (1)!!!


***
A probably bad translation because I used Babelfish to help:

Song of the Torches
First Sunday of Lent

Saint Panceau, who does not have soup,
If you please give to him!
Cut high,
cut low
a good piece
in the middle of the dish.
If you do not have a knife,
give all the piece; (give the whole thing)
The iron leg,
who runs like a stag;
The leg of wood, [EDIT: change "boss" to "wood"]
who remains with the base,
If you want to give nothing, (If you don't want to give anything)
Three forks,
Three forks.
If you want to give nothing
Three forks.
Dâ vô gozier (not French?)


Notes:

- I am guessing that "rin" is a variation of "rien".

- S.Panceau or Pancart was apparently an imaginary saint. Patron of "gens des bon appetits" -- gentlemen with good appetites.

- L thinks "three forks" might also be "three branches". Either way, meaning is unclear at the moment, unless it is perhaps a derogatory phrase?

Huh. Can't make sense of it all, but it's a funny poem for Lent.

[EDIT for additional thoughts]: Song for Mardi Gras, which includes directions for a dance? See comments.

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry

Monday was a catchup day, as per usual. Also I asked fitzw to bring my spinning wheel downstairs that night -- it's been in the house, out of the way of us moving things, etc. Getting started again spinning on a wheel was a bit of a trial, and there came a point when I had to stop. Last night was much better, and I have good bit of blue indigo cotswold spun now (during the day I was at Fiona's, and she Emma and I made pennons for Crossroads at Canterbury). Cotswold is not a medieval breed, but it's pleasant enough to work with, and I like the natural dyes the lady uses - local person from the hills. I was good and mostly got a few different shades of blue, and I think a green (last October). And of course I have to spin a lot of it before I can buy any more!

Much of what I'm spinning will likely be used for modern clothing, so I'm not overly concerned with whether or not the sheep breed goes way back... but I still prefer Romney (which has one crossbreed in the 19th c., but a Romney breeder I spoke with believes it was primarily for hardiness), Shetland, and Icelandic. I like a longer fiber because it makes a smooth strong yarn -- although you don't always get that with the Shetland... I don't know if it's because of where some of them are raised or how the wool is processed. They're supposed to be dual-coated, but I find it hard to believe that sheep that are bred for generations in the southern U.S. would be as dual-coated as ones from the northern U.S.

The Icelandic is generally (unless you get some of the lambs wool) a harder fiber, so a lot of people don't care for it. But you want a harder fiber for outdoor wear and for socks and such. Lambswool socks might feel very nice, but they won't last long.

For the finest spinning I still use drop spindles, as I find the wheel doesn't spin quite as tightly and securely as I do. Also, it can only really go in one direction well, whereas doing Z- or S- twist with a spindle is no big deal.

One of the things I've noticed with spinning rovings and batts that are already dyed is that there tends to be a little excess dye on the fibers. Probably because you can only rinse it so much without risking turning the fibers into a mass of felt... so I end up with colorful fingers at the end of a spinning session :) Last night, blue.

I tried spinning by candlelight last night. Since I'd been having an awful time the night before, I figured it wouldn't be made much worse doing it by candle instead of electric light. I found it worked quite well, as the light caught on the fibers and filled out the shape of the triangle.

So, here's a little rhyme, in honor of getting back to spinning on the wheel...

Hello my friend,
good to see you again.
Fumbling at first with drafting and tension,
eventually I match your rhythm and rhyme.
Candle flame fills the triangle's dimension,
As the bobbin fills up with warmth and time.
The pleasure of a fine woolen
So much more, made by my hand.