Seis canciones de los Siete Reinos

Soy muy fan de la saga de Canción de Hielo y Fuego así que todo lo que tenga que ver con la saga para mi es oro en polvo. Hoy encontré estas seis canciones en tumblr, es una especie de folk medieval y solo puedo decir que me encantaron, escúchenlas, ¡son preciosas!.   



1. The Bear and the Maiden Fair

"A bear there was,"

"A bear, A BEAR!

"All black and brown,"

"And covered with hair!

"Oh come they said,"

"Oh come to the fair!"

"The fair? said he,

"But I'm a bear!"

"All black and brown,"

"And covered in hair!"

"And down the road,"

"From here to there,"

"From here!To there!"

"Three boys, a goat,"

"And a dancing bear!"

"They danced and spun,"

"All the way to the fair!"

"Oh! sweet she was,"

"And pure and fair,"

"The maid with honey,"

"In her hair! Her hair,"

"The maid with honey,"

"in her hair!"

The bear smelled the scent,

"On the summer air!"

"The Bear! The Bear!"

"All black and brown,"

"And covered with hair!"

"He smelled the scent,"

"On the summer air,"

"He sniffed and roared,"

"And smelled it there!"

"Honey on the summer air!"

"Oh I'm a maid,"

"And I'm pure and fair,"

"I'll never dance,"

"With a hairy bear,"

"A bear! A bear!"

"I'll never dance,"

"With a hairy bear!"

"The bear,the bear!"

"Lifted her high,"

into the air!"

The bear, the bear!"

"I called for a knight!"

"But you're a bear!"

"A bear! A bear,"

"All black and brown,"

"And cover in hair!"

"She kicked and wailed,"

"The maid so fair,"

"But he licked the honey,"

"From her hair!"

"Her hair! Her hair!"

"He licked the honey,"

"From her hair!"

"Then she sighed and squealed,"

"And kicked the air,"

"She sang: My bear so fair,"

"And off they went,"

"The bear! The bear!"

"And the maiden fair!"

2. Hands of Gold

He rode through the streets of the city,

down from his hill on high,

O'er the wynds and the steps and the cobbles,

he rode to a woman's sigh.

For she was his secret treasure,

she was his shame and his bliss.

And a chain and a keep are nothing,

compared to a woman's kiss

For hands of gold are always cold, but a woman's hands are warm...

3. Mothers Hymn

Gentle Mother, font of mercy,

Save our sons from war, we pray.

Stay the swords and stay the arrows,

Let them know a better day.

Gentle Mother, strength of women,

Help our daughters through this fray.

Soothe the wrath and tame the fury,

Teach us all a kinder way.

Gentle Mother, font of mercy,

Save our sons from war, we pray.

Stay the swords and stay the arrows,

Let them know a better day.

4. The Rains of Castamere

And who are you, the proud lord said,

that I must bow so low?

Only a cat of a different coat,

that's all the truth I know.

In a coat of gold or a coat of red,

a lion still has claws,

And mine are long and sharp, my lord,

as long and sharp as yours.

And so he spoke, and so he spoke,

that lord of Castamere,

But now the rains weep o'er his hall,

with no one there to hear.

Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,

and not a soul to hear.

5. Last of the Giants

Ooooooh, I am the last of the giants,

my people are gone from the earth.

The last of the great mountain giants,

who ruled all the world at my birth.

Oh the smallfolk have stolen my forests,

they’ve stolen my rivers and hills.

And the’ve built a great wall through my valleys,

and fished all the fish from my rills.

In stone halls they burn their great fires,

in stone halls they forge their sharp spears.

Whilst I walk alone in the mountains,

with no true companion but tears.

They hunt me with dogs in the daylight,

they hunt me with torches by night.

For these men who are small can never stand tall,

whilst giants still walk in the light.

Oooooooh, I am the LAST of the giants,

so learn well the words of my song.

For when I am gone the singing will fade,

and the silence shall last long and long.

6. Dornishman's wife

The Dornishman's wife was as fair as the sun,

and her kisses were warmer than spring.

But the Dornishman's blade was made of black steel,

and its kiss was a terrible thing.

The Dornishman's wife would sing as she bathed,

in a voice that was sweet as a peach,

But the Dornishman's blade had a song of its own,

and a bite sharp and cold as a leech.

As he lay on the ground with the darkness around,

and the taste of his blood on his tongue,

His brothers knelt by him and prayed him a prayer,

and he smiled and he laughed and he sung,

"Brothers, oh brothers, my days here are done,

the Dornishman's taken my life,

But what does it matter, for all men must die,

and I've tasted the Dornishman's wife!"