Cvik cvak!
Katalena
Quote about Resian music: "There were festivities and dance. All night long I was listening to the buzz and rumbling of the bass. Tonic-dominant, tonic-dominant in the fast four quarter bar repeating endlessly without stopping or pausing all night long. There was something mischievous and devilish in this. The air was opaque with steam and evaporating wine. Pale wakeful faces with that glazed look in their eyes. Tightly packed crowd of dancing couples who were raving wildly and quietly in a steam of sweat, like obsessed with demons. It was like a picture from 'Inferno'..."
(Julius Kugy, 1925)
All songs are created upon traditional motifs. Recorded at: Studio Metro, marec 2008; Additional recording and editing: Studio Attic, Studio Na tolsto; Producer: Aldo Ivančič; Sound engineers: Blaž Celarec in Blaž Hribar; Mastering: Martin Žvelc; Guests musicians: Jelena Ždrale – violin (1, 3, 8); Bojan Cvetrežnik – violin (7, 9); Blaž Celarec – maracas (2); Design: Ivian Kan Mujezinović
—
Voices from archive recordings:
Anna Pusca, counting–out rhyme (4) T1150, 40306/1
Marcellina Chinese, a confession (8) T1147
Source: "Rezija: Pesmi in glasba rezijanske doline; iz arhiva GNI ZRC SAZU", 1997.
Julius Kugy: "Iz življenja gornika", 1968. / "Aus dem Leben eines Bergsteigers", 1925.
—
Katalena:
Cvik cvak!
1. Inferno - 4.04
2. Ćanïnawa - 4.04
3. Banërinä - 6.44
4. Miško koroško - 1.54
5. Zapïskul nu zatrumbatol - 4.54
6. Ta solbaška - 7.20
7. Za isi svit - 7.02
8. Ta aldowska - 5.20
9. Lisïca - 9.05
10. Da pa Ćanen ë sa zmudol - 3.29
11. Inferno 25 - 2.58
Inferno
Ćanïnawa
(Njïwa / Njiva / Gniva)
Da höra ta Ćanïnawa,
lala joli lile
na jë pur palë visoka.
Ko won na warh sowa dušle,
lala joli lile
šćë wtïćaci so snüwali.
Ja si puhledal ta nu së,
lala joli lile
ja si puhledal ta nu së.
Jë meköj skala enu rob,
lala joli lile
jë meköj skala enu rob.
Ja si puhledal nu ta w dnö,
lala joli lile
za vïdët, ći tu jë bujë.
Jë meköj wöda enu prod,
lala joli lile
jë meköj wöda enu prod.
Da höra ta Ćanïnawa,
lala joli lile
na jë pur palë visoka.
Ko won na warh sowa dušle,
lala joli lile
šćë wtïćaci so snüwali.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ćanïnawa /Mt. Kanin/
Mount Kanin is very high.
When we arrived to the top,
The birds were still dreaming.
You took a look around,
Rocks and abyss everywhere.
So you looked downhill to see
If it was any better there,
Water and gravel everywhere.
Mount Kanin is very high.
When we arrived to the top,
The birds were still dreaming.
The valley of Rezija is separated from Slovenia by the high, difficult-to-pass mountain, called Ćanen, höra ta Ćanïnawa. In standard Slovenian, it is called Kanin.
Banërinä
(Učjà / Uccea)
Lipaj ma na Banërinä,
lipaj ma na Banërinä.
Na ë rüdi snëgä basanä,
na ë rüdi snëgä basanä.
Nu onjatänt an prïdë plaz
nu onjatänt an prïdë plaz.
Lala lala jole lele
nu onjatänt an prïdë plaz.
Ka an parnašä körana,
ka an parnašä körana.
Lala lala jole lele
ka an parnašä körana.
Ću rejšë jet te körana,
ću rejšë jet te körana.
Lala lala jole lele
te körana
liköj no rüso rožico,
liköj no rüso rožico.
Lala lala jole lele
rüso rožico.
Lipaj ma na Banërinä,
lipaj ma na Banërinä.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Banërinä /Mt. Banera/
My mountain Banera is beautiful,
Always covered with snow.
Every now and then, an avalanche is triggered
And it brings out the roots.
I would rather touch those roots
Than that yellow flower.
My mountain Banera is so beautiful.
The Resians often sing about their mountains.
Beneath the love for nature, we can sometimes find small, well-packed, cheeky sarcasm.
Miško koroško
Zapïskul nu zatrumbatol
(Učjà / Uccea)
Sveti Santilawdeć
ë rüdi šol nu ökul,
ë došol nu w prad paklon.
Zapïskul nu zatrumbatol,
zapïskul nu zatrumbatol,
paklö to ë gnalu proga.
Oćo to ë gnalu h kraju.
“Ka stë folol vï, oćä?”
“Si dëlul perït anu nodar.
Ta bögaga si bögul,
ta bogataga si bogatel.”
Zapïskul nu zatrumbatol.
Zapïskul nu zatrumbatol,
zapïskul nu zatrumbatol.
Matër to ë gnalu h kraju.
“Ka stë folalä, mate?”
“Si dëlalä wštërä,
si mišalä wödo ta-mi vïnu.”
Zapïskul nu zatrumbatol,
zapïskul nu zatrumbatol,
paklö to ë gnalu proga.
Braträ dwa to ë gnalu h kraju.
“Ka stä folale, bratre?”
“Swa vinašalä fama tin judin. ”
Zapïskul nu zatrumbatol:
“Njän jimïtä se za-ma,
ka ćemö itet wun w paravïž!”
Zapïskul nu zatrumbatol,
zapïskul nu zatrumbatol:
“Ka ćemö itet wun w paravïž!“
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Zapïskul nu zatrumbatol
/He Whistled and Trumpeted/
Saint David
Wandered around and cried
And came to the edge of hell.
He whistled and trumpeted,
He whistled and trumpeted,
The hell trembled.
Father came near the edge:
“What is your sin, father?”
“I worked as a lawyer and a notary,
I robbed the poor
And gave to the rich.”
He whistled and trumpeted.
He whistled and trumpeted,
He whistled and trumpeted.
Mother came near the edge:
“What is your sin, mother?”
“I was a waitress,
I watered the wine.”
He whistled and trumpeted,
He whistled and trumpeted,
The hell trembled.
Two brothers came to the edge:
“What are your sins, brothers?”
“We spoke ill of people.”
He whistled and trumpeted:
“Hold on tight,
We’re all heading for paradise!”
He whistled and trumpeted,
He whistled and trumpeted:
“We’re all heading for paradise!”
Ta solbaška
Za isi svit
(Osoanë / Osojane / Oseacco)
Ko ba mamö mïslit za isi svit,
ka pa isi svit ma se dišfät.
Maraö prït sanjalave,
sanjalave prad sodnjin dnën.
Ko suncë se otomali
nu lüna se otomali
nu zvïzda spadë z nëba dö,
kaku dan gärd špavent tö bo!
Ta prawa prïdë ta-na grob,
na prïdë suludät nji žwöt:
“O, döbri žwöt, wstane gorë,
kaku ti löpu mi dišïš.
Beneden tï anu pa ä
nu naju prave matare,
so naju löpu wüčile,
so naju löpu wüčile.”
Ko suncë se otomali
nu lüna se otomali.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Za isi svit /For This World/
Why think about this world?
It will come to an end anyway.
There should be some signs
Before the final judgement comes.
When the sun stops shining,
The moon will stop shining too.
The star will fall from the sky,
It is certainly going to be a fearful event.
When the good soul reaches its grave,
It will come to salute its body:
“Oh my good body, get up,
You seem so good to me,
Blessed are we, you and me,
And our good mothers
Who raised us well.”
When the sun stops shining,
The moon will stop shining too.
Original lyrics were much longer, since more emphasis was placed on the final judgement.
The Resians used to sing this song when someone died.
Ta aldowska
Ta aldowska (Bila / San Giorgio)
Lala joli lile lile,
da jnjyn ćewa, ćewa jtyt gnät.
Da so trï wore anu pul.
Da so trï wore anu pul.
Ćewa vignät me kravice
dölu z te brïne na dolë.
Da ta-z Woblaza sawa šlä
nu ta-na Läs si gledala.
.....
spuvëd
.....
Pa te ni so viganjali,
lala joli lile lile.
Si vïdël wöpce nu koze,
tadij ja si zajüknula.
To so bili sanjalavi,
lala joli lile lile.
To so bili sanjalavi,
lala joli lile lile.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Ta aldowska
Lala joli lile lile,
I’m going to pasture the cows,
For it is half past three.
I’m going to take them
Down this pine-tree hill.
I went from Oblaz
Watching the Laz.
.....
confession
.....
They were going to the pastures too.
You saw the sheep and the goats
And then I yelled.
It was our sign,
Lala joli lile lile.
It was our sign,
Lala joli lile lile.
Lisïca
(Rávanca / Prato di Resia)
Lisïca ta Fasalawa
trï lita bila jalawa.
Tö štyrtnjë na se wbrëjila
ziz wukon ta Bočonavin.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Lisïca /The Vixen/
The vixen from Fasal
Was barren for three years.
On the fourth year, she was with young
By the wolf O’Bočon.
Da pa Ćanen ë sa zmudol
(Osoanë / Osojane / Oseacco)
Da pa Ćanen ë sa zmudol,
ë g´al to bilo srakico
anu bragesa zalana
nu ta višïta rožica
ta bila nu ta čarnjala
anu ta rüsa zmišana.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Da pa Ćanen ë sa zmudol /Mt. Kanin has Changed its Clothes/
Mount Kanin has changed its clothes,
It put on the little white shirt
And the green pants,
With little flowers sewn on,
White and red and yellow,
multicoloured.
Inferno 25
There were festivities and dance. All night long, I was listening to the buzz and rumbling of the bass from the dance floor. Tonic - dominant, tonic - dominant in the fast four quarter time repeating endlessly, without stopping, all night long. Sometimes, it sounded as if it were coming from the hill and then it was dominant - tonic, dominant - tonic. There was something mischievous and devilish in all this. I was trying hard to figure out how it was possible to dance a night away, without a bright leading voice, only this hopeless interval from the tonic, to the empty fifth. In the morning, when we were leaving, I couldn’t help myself but to look across the dance floor. At that moment, I solved the riddle: above the steady tonic - dominant, dominant – tonic, provided by two eager, wild fists on the bass, there were two very high pitched squeaking violins, but so soundless, so sickly, that their miserable squealing and squeaking could hardly be heard. The air was opaque with steam and evaporating wine. Pale, wakeful faces and glazed looks in the eyes, a tightly packed crowd of dancing couples, raving wildly and quietly, all sweaty, as though obsessed with demons. It was like an image from ‘Inferno’; an image of such utter and sad emptiness, that I was happy and relieved not to hear that tonic and dominant anymore and to see the white peaks of Mt. Kanin rise into the still and clear morning sky, as I was walking through the valley.
—
Julius Kugy
