Het wordt wel weer eens tijd voor een gezellige sprookjesachtige moordballade. De onschuldige geslachtofferde zuster is blond, de slechterik zwartharig. Zo is de orde der dingen.
There lived a lady by the North Sea shore
(Lay the bent to the bonnie broom – na iedere eerst coupletregel)
Two daughters were the babes she bore
(Fa la la la la la la la la la – na iedere tweede coupletregel)
As one grew bright as is the sun,
So coal black grew the elder one.
A knight came riding to the lady’s door,
He’d travelled far to be their wooer.
He courted one with gloves and rings,
But he loved the other above all things.
Oh sister will you go with me
To watch the ships sail on the sea?
She took her sister by the hand
And led her down to the North Sea strand.
And as they stood on the windy shore
The dark girl threw her sister o’er.
Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam,
Crying, “Sister, reach to me your hand!
“Oh Sister, Sister, let me live,
And all that’s mine I’ll surely give.”
“(It’s) your own true love that I’ll have and more,
But thou shalt never come ashore.”
And there she floated like a swan,
The salt sea bore her body on.
Two minstrels walked along the strand
And saw the maiden float to land.
They made a harp of her breastbone,
Whose sound would melt a heart of stone.
They took three locks of her yellow hair,
And with them strung the harp so rare.
They went into her father’s hall
To play the harp before them all,
But when they laid it on a stone
The harp began to play alone.
The first string sang a doleful sound:
“The bride her younger sister drowned.”
The second string as that they tried,
In terror sits the black-haired bride.
The third string sang beneath their bow,
And surely now her tears will flow
Cruel sister, Pentangle, 1970