{"id":9869,"date":"2016-12-15T08:59:19","date_gmt":"2016-12-15T08:59:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/willizblog.de\/?p=9869"},"modified":"2016-12-15T09:19:54","modified_gmt":"2016-12-15T09:19:54","slug":"ian-anderson-liest-aus-sir-walter-scott-marmion-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/willizblog.de\/?p=9869","title":{"rendered":"Ian Anderson liest aus Sir Walter Scott: Marmion"},"content":{"rendered":"

Vor einigen Jahren gab es hier einen Beitrag u.a. mit dem Titel \u201eWeihnachtliches mit Onkel Ian\u201c<\/a>, in dem Ian Anderson von der Gruppe \u201eJethro Tull\u201c etwas der jetzigen Weihnachtszeit Gem\u00e4\u00dfes vortrug. Hier noch einmal aus gegebenen Anlass und weil ich es nat\u00fcrlich sch\u00f6n finde:<\/p>\n

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Es handelt sich hierbei um einen Radio-Beitrag zu einer Sendung namens „A Toss the Feathers Christmas Special 2004“ und wurde eben vor inzwischen zw\u00f6lf Jahren \u00fcber den amerikanischen Sender Public Radio International<\/a> ausgestrahlt. Neben „Another Christmas Song“ und „Ring Out Solstice Bells\u201d (am Ende) liest Ian Anderson aus Sir Walter Scott’s „Marmion“<\/a>– Dichtung in sechs Ges\u00e4ngen (A Tale of Flodden Field in six Cantos) etwas Weihnachtliches vor:<\/p>\n

INTRODUCTION TO CANTO SIXTH<\/strong><\/p>\n

Heap on more wood!-the wind is chill;
\nBut let it whistle as it will,
\nWe\u2019ll keep our Christmas merry still.
\nEach age has deem\u2019d the new-born year
\nThe fittest time for festal cheer: 5
\nEven, heathen yet, the savage Dane
\nAt Iol more deep the mead did drain;
\nHigh on the beach his galleys drew,
\nAnd feasted all his pirate crew;
\nThen in his low and pine-built hall, 10
\nWhere shields and axes deck\u2019d the wall,
\nThey gorged upon the half-dress\u2019d steer;
\nCaroused in seas of sable beer;
\nWhile round, in brutal jest, were thrown
\nThe half-gnaw\u2019d rib, and marrow-bone, 15
\nOr listen\u2019d all, in grim delight,
\nWhile scalds yell\u2019d out the joys of fight.
\nThen forth, in frenzy, would they hie,
\nWhile wildly-loose their red locks fly,
\nAnd dancing round the blazing pile, 20
\nThey make such barbarous mirth the while,
\nAs best might to the mind recall
\nThe boisterous joys of Odin\u2019s hall.<\/p>\n

And well our Christian sires of old
\nLoved when the year its course had roll\u2019d, 25
\nAnd brought blithe Christmas back again,
\nWith all his hospitable train.
\nDomestic and religious rite
\nGave honour to the holy night;
\nOn Christmas eve the bells were rung; 30
\nOn Christmas eve the mass was sung:
\nThat only night in all the year,
\nSaw the stoled priest the chalice rear.
\nThe damsel donn\u2019d her kirtle sheen;
\nThe hall was dress\u2019d with holly green; 35
\nForth to the wood did merry-men go,
\nTo gather in the mistletoe.
\nThen open\u2019d wide the Baron\u2019s hall
\nTo vassal, tenant, serf, and all;
\nPower laid his rod of rule aside, 40
\nAnd Ceremony doff\u2019d his pride.
\nThe heir, with roses in his shoes,
\nThat night might village partner choose;
\nThe Lord, underogating, share
\nThe vulgar game of \u2018post and pair.\u2019 45
\nAll hail\u2019d, with uncontroll\u2019d delight,
\nAnd general voice, the happy night,
\nThat to the cottage, as the crown,
\nBrought tidings of salvation down.<\/p>\n

The fire, with well-dried logs supplied, 50
\nWent roaring up the chimney wide:
\nThe huge hall-table\u2019s oaken face,
\nScrubb\u2019d till it shone, the day to grace,
\nBore then upon its massive board
\nNo mark to part the squire and lord. 55
\nThen was brought in the lusty brawn,
\nBy old blue-coated serving-man;
\nThen the grim boar\u2019s head frown\u2019d on high,
\nCrested with bays and rosemary.
\nWell can the green-garb\u2019d ranger tell, 60
\nHow, when, and where, the monster fell;
\nWhat dogs before his death he tore,
\nAnd all the baiting of the boar.
\nThe wassel round, in good brown bowls,
\nGarnish\u2019d with ribbons, blithely trowls. 65
\nThere the huge sirloin reek\u2019d; hard by
\nPlum-porridge stood, and Christmas pie:
\nNor fail\u2019d old Scotland to produce,
\nAt such high tide, her savoury goose.
\nThen came the merry maskers in, 70
\nAnd carols roar\u2019d with blithesome din;
\nIf unmelodious was the song,
\nIt was a hearty note, and strong.
\nWho lists may in their mumming see
\nTraces of ancient mystery; 75
\nWhite shirts supplied the masquerade,
\nAnd smutted cheeks the visors made;
\nBut, O! what maskers, richly dight,
\nCan boast of bosoms half so light!
\nEngland was merry England, when 80
\nOld Christmas brought his sports again.
\n\u2018Twas Christmas broach\u2019d the mightiest ale;
\n\u2018Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
\nA Christmas gambol oft could cheer
\nThe poor man\u2019s heart through half the year. 85<\/p>\n

Eine deutsche \u00dcbersetzung habe ich leider bisher nicht gefunden (wahrscheinlich gibt es auch keine), so d\u00fcrft Ihr Euch selbst mit dem Schottischen herumschlagen (leider spricht Ian Anderson alles mehr oder weniger englisch aus. Schade eigentlich \u2026 Oder er kann nicht richtig schottisch).<\/p>\n