1. Gamekeeper Yimramovskey, how braw he looks and gay, he has a new bonnet, with fine ribbon braided. His wife his new bonnet braided. For she loved him truly always. 2. Where our folks live, ‘bove the farmhouse, rides by a callant on a black horse. There’s a lassie that’s glad and the gate opens wide: ride in quickly, comfort my heart that’s sorrowing so. 3. On a plumtree sat a birdie, plaint made daughter to her mother: oh, mammie bad news bring I, my own laddie is forsaking me. 4. From the forest comes my sweetheart. Here hast, my love, a load of wood, cut it into logs for firewood. 5. See there a farmer moving. High stands the sun, my dear love, bear me company through the wood, there we’ll part.
SONGS FOR A CHILDREN`S CHOIR (Písničky pro dětský sbor)
1. A clucking-hen clucked, cluck, cluck, being angry with the faucet for he lays Easter eggs. 2. Smite, smite, smith, put a horseshoe on my foot, on both of my feet and I’ll pay you well later. 3. I am sweeping it out, I am carrying it out to no end. What is it? The sunshine.
THE BIRD FEAST (Ptačí hody)
The birds sing in Strachotín grove beautifully. But now, when winter arrived, they are gone. Now, whom should I spend my time with?
CZECH NURSERY RHYMES (Česká říkadla)
1. There was once a house, inside a little table, water in a bowl, a little fish in that water. Where’s the fish? The cat ate it. Where is the cat? Then, eating one another the men remained buried in a cemetery. 2. Closing, closing the forest, so no one gets in here, neither a cat nor a dog. 3. Hey! Hey! Mara Zikmundova! Run your herd to my pasture. 4. Morana! Morana, where did you put the keys? I gave them to Saint George to open the door to paradise. Saint George gets up, the ground unlocks for grass to grow, green grass, red rose, violet blue. 5. Hey! Hey! Ann Tomesova! Drive your cattle to me. The wolf wants a calf on me. I don’t have a calf. I won’t give him a cow. 6. We are carrying Death from the village, new Easter rods to the village. Be cheerful, ladies!
OPENING OF THE SPRINGS (Otvírání studánek)
“This is a custom we have in the hills; the Queen is she whom everybody wills, and hangs her pitcher round with healing herbs. Behind her in the place custom decrees her maids-in-waiting follow; on their heels troop the boys with pranks and bantering words. All the boys are carrying hooks and hoes; with spades and rakes the gay procession goes; all laden down with flowers are the lasses and in their midst they lead their gentle Queen as fresh as Spring, and young-not yet fourteen. The forest wind has brought her his caresses.” (M. Bureš)
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