by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator and Proud Papa
My middle child, Molly, is forty-two-years-old today. She was born at the end of our nation's bi-centennial year and in the brief period of time between when Jimmy Carter was elected President and Gerald Ford left office. Today Molly is an extremely busy mother of three children of her own, two boys and a girl between the ages of seven and eleven, and she spends most of every day shuffling kids to school, lessons, various practice sessions and games, and special meetings and events. She is a textbook busy parent with a routine that never lets up.
I wanted to highlight a poem today that would be in praise of hard-working women. My first choice was Maya Angelou's "Still I Rise," but I decided to forgo that choice when I discovered that I had already used it twice in this space - this year, alone. My second choice was "Molly Malone," a song that I learned in a college music appreciation class at about the same time my Molly was born.
"Molly Malone" describes the life of an Irish fishmonger working the streets of Dublin. Over the years it has become strongly entwined with the Irish capital of Dublin, and in 1988, during that city's millennium celebration, a statue of Molly and her fish cart was unveiled in the downtown area. It has gone on to become one of the major tourist attractions of the city of Dublin.
The song's origins are unclear, but many believe it was composed by James Yorkston of Edinburgh, Scotland, in the late 19th century, perhaps as a European take on the American hit tune of the time, "My Darling Clementine."
For the purposes of this blog, and with little fear of being sued by some other claimant, I will give credit to James Yorkston.
Happy birthday, Molly - this one's for you!
Molly Malone
by James Yorkston
In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live-O!
She was a fishmonger and sure it was no wonder
For so were her father and mother before
And they both wheeled their barrows through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying Cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
She died of a fever and no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
Now her ghost wheels her barrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and Mussels alive a-live O!
A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
Poetry Appreciator and Proud Papa
My middle child, Molly, is forty-two-years-old today. She was born at the end of our nation's bi-centennial year and in the brief period of time between when Jimmy Carter was elected President and Gerald Ford left office. Today Molly is an extremely busy mother of three children of her own, two boys and a girl between the ages of seven and eleven, and she spends most of every day shuffling kids to school, lessons, various practice sessions and games, and special meetings and events. She is a textbook busy parent with a routine that never lets up.
I wanted to highlight a poem today that would be in praise of hard-working women. My first choice was Maya Angelou's "Still I Rise," but I decided to forgo that choice when I discovered that I had already used it twice in this space - this year, alone. My second choice was "Molly Malone," a song that I learned in a college music appreciation class at about the same time my Molly was born.
"Molly Malone" describes the life of an Irish fishmonger working the streets of Dublin. Over the years it has become strongly entwined with the Irish capital of Dublin, and in 1988, during that city's millennium celebration, a statue of Molly and her fish cart was unveiled in the downtown area. It has gone on to become one of the major tourist attractions of the city of Dublin.
The song's origins are unclear, but many believe it was composed by James Yorkston of Edinburgh, Scotland, in the late 19th century, perhaps as a European take on the American hit tune of the time, "My Darling Clementine."
For the purposes of this blog, and with little fear of being sued by some other claimant, I will give credit to James Yorkston.
Happy birthday, Molly - this one's for you!
Molly Malone
by James Yorkston
In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live-O!
She was a fishmonger and sure it was no wonder
For so were her father and mother before
And they both wheeled their barrows through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying Cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
She died of a fever and no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
Now her ghost wheels her barrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and Mussels alive a-live O!
A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O!
Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O!
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