Saturday, December 6, 2014

Before they were Hungry

Down in the valley, the valley so low
Hang your head over, hear the wind blow
Hear the wind blow, dear, hear the wind blow;
Hang your head over, hear the wind blow.
Roses love sunshine, violets love dew,
Angels in Heaven know I love you,
Know I love you, dear, know I love you,
Angels in Heaven know I love you.
If you don't love me, love whom you please,
Throw your arms 'round me, give my heart ease,
Give my heart ease, dear, give my heart ease,
Throw your arms 'round me, give my heart ease.
Build me a castle, forty feet high;
So I can see her as she rides by,
As she rides by, dear, as she rides by,
So I can see her as she rides by.
Write me a letter,'Send it by mail,
Send it in care of Birmingham Jail,
Birmingham Jail, love, Birmingham Jail,
Send it in care of Birmingham Jail
"The Valley Song"


FreeThinke said...

Sadly prophetic though it may be, I love the austere beauty of The Hanging Tree. The elegant, understated musical accompaniment haunts as it eloquently underscores the meaning of this vignette.

Yes, it's all been said before by Forster, Huxley, Orwell, Atkins and others less famous and less gifted, but the message here is painfully clear.

Our only hope lies in the simple tenderness and love of Truth demonstrated by the young Christ-like man as he teaches the innocent child what must be learned if freedom is ever to be regained.

"All this [outside the sometimes-electrified fence] exists without the Capitol," he says.

Living in freedom is certainly terrifying prospect, because it demands the acceptance of RISK, and the ever present possibility of failure -- and the ONLY possibility of achieving fulfillment.

There is something terribly morbid in the modern sympathy with pain. One should sympathise with the colour, the beauty, the joy of life. The less said about life's sores the better.

"Our ambition should be to rule ourselves, the true kingdom for each one of us; and true progress is to know more, and be more, and to do more."

"Ordinary riches can be stolen; real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you."

~ Oscar Wilde

-FJ said...

I think that I like the last verse best. ;)