Es una verdadera lástima como, debido a los tiempos modernos, hemos perdido el gusto por aquellas “cosas brujescas” que diría Robin Artisan que provienen de siglos pasados y, a menudo, encierran dentro de su poesía, mágica o terrorífica, el romántico encanto de la astucia hechiceril.
A menudo el arte y la poesía es uno de los idiomas desde los cuales rescatamos la astucia adormecida. Tal vez sea porque mucho de lo necesario es experimental, y no literal, y cosas como la poesía, los cuentos y la música nos transmiten sensaciones además de letras. Algo que, aunque no imposible, sí es más difícil durante una fría conversación.
Como diria Robert Cochrane, Magister del Coven de Tubal-Cain, a menudo durante el folclore, los cuentos, la poesía y la música se encierran llaves cifradas de sabiduría heredada o vehículos misteriosos que nos conducen al mundo que está más allá del seto, más allá de la niebla, más allá de nuestra realidad ordinariamente percibida. Esto es una verdad no únicamente percibida por la gente astuta sino también por pensadores de innumerables disciplinas espirituales a lo largo del mundo;el símbolo encierra una sabiduría cifrada que causa efecto en latitudes profundas, tal vez oscuras, de nuestro propio ser.
Entre mis preferidas, junto con aquellos cuentos populares que erizan los pelos y hablan sobre la naturaleza misteriosa de los buenos vecinos, están las Witch-Ballads (Baladas de Brujas) escritas en la Europa Medieval y tan a menudo contenedoras de un espíritu mucho más antiguo que su época.
Pero ¿qué es una balada? En realidad es una historia narrativa, a veces adaptada a la música, muy popular en la Europa Medieval pero muy especialmente en Gran Bretaña e Irlanda. El orígen del nombre viene del francés ballares (canciones para el baile). La considerada “primera balada” como tal la encontramos en la Inglaterra del Siglo XIII bajo el título “Judas”.
La mayoría se componen de cuartetos alternados con pentámetros yámbicos y tetrámetros, sin embargo estas formas pueden variar en cuanto a otras clases de baladas; por ejemplo los romanceros españoles.
Se han escrito baladas sobre un interminable numero de cosas; amor, conflictos entre familias, actos trágicos de traición, sucesos en la realeza, y sí; también sobre Brujería. Sus practicantes tuvieron un impacto social, a causa de las persecuciones, muy amplio en la sociedad europea. También hay Baladas folclóricas, de contenido indudablemente mitológico y pagano. Son a estas dos últimas clases de baladas a las que hago referencia como Witch-Ballads como poseedoras, en muchos casos, del encanto misterioso y aterrador que solo el espíritu de las viejas maneras puede infudar
Un ejemplo bastante famoso sobre contenido mitológico en las baladas son los Hermanos Grimm que inyectaron unas grandísimas dosis de folclore y mitología a lo largo de sus cuentos y sus baladas.
Tam Lim Ballad
A continuación, la Balada de Tam Lim. Esta balada, de orígen escocés, hace una intensa referencia a “la gente pálida”, “los buenos vecinos” o, dicho vulgarmente; las hadas y a la Reina de las Hadas. Esta balada ha servido de inspiración para obras musicales diversas, obras de teatro e incluso a primeros de los 70 para una película dirigida por Roddy MacDowall conocida bajo los títulos de Tam Lim o The Devil’s Widow.
Tam Lim Ballad (Scottish Version)
O I forbid you, maidens a’,
That wear gowd on your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh,
For young Tam Lin is there.
There’s nane that gaes by Carterhaugh
But they leave him a wad,
Either their rings, or green mantles,
Or else their maidenhead.
Janet has kilted her green kirtle
A little aboon her knee,
And she has broded her yellow hair
A little aboon her bree,
And she’s awa to Carterhaugh
As fast as she can hie.
When she came to carterhaugh
Tam Lin was at the well,
And there she fand his steel standing,
But away was himsel.
She had na pu’d a double rose,
A rose but only twa,
Till upon then started young Tam Lin,
Says, Lady, thou’s pu nae mae.
Why pu’s thou the rose, Janet,
And why breaks thou the wand?
Or why comes thou to Carterhaugh
Withoutten my command?
“Carterhaugh, it is my own,
My daddy gave it me,
I’ll come and gang by Carterhaugh,
And ask nae leave at thee.?
Janet has kilted her green kirtle
A little aboon her knee,
And she has broded her yellow hair
A little aboon her bree,
And she is to her father’s ha,
As fast as she can hie.
Four and twenty ladies fair
Were playing at the ba,
And out then came the fair Janet,
The flower among them a’.
Four and twenty ladies fair
Were playing at the chess,
And out then came the fair Janet,
As green as onie glass.
Out then spake an auld grey knight,
Lay oer the castle wa,
And says, Alas, fair Janet, for thee,
But we’ll be blamed a’.
“Haud your tongue, ye auld fac’d knight,
Some ill death may ye die!
Father my bairn on whom I will,
I’ll father none on thee.”
Out then spak her father dear,
And he spak meek and mild,
“And ever alas, sweet Janet,” he says,
“I think thou gaest wi child.”
“If that I gae wi child, father,
Mysel maun bear the blame,
There’s neer a laird about your ha,
Shall get the bairn’s name.
“If my love were an earthly knight,
As he’s an elfin grey,
I wad na gie my ain true-love
For nae lord that ye hae.
“The steed that my true love rides on
Is lighter than the wind,
Wi siller he is shod before,
Wi burning gowd behind.”
Janet has kilted her green kirtle
A little aboon her knee,
And she has broded her yellow hair
A little aboon her bree,
And she’s awa to Carterhaugh
As fast as she can hie.
When she came to Carterhaugh,
Tam Lin was at the well,
And there she fand his steel standing,
But away was himsel.
She had na pu’d a double rose,
A rose but only twa,
Till up then started young Tam Lin,
Says, Lady, thou pu’s nae mae.
“Why pu’s thou the rose, Janet,
Amang the groves sae green,
And a’ to kill the bonny babe
That we gat us between?”
“O tell me, tell me, Tam Lin,” she says,
“For’s sake that died on tree,
If eer ye was in holy chapel,
Or christendom did see?”
“Roxbrugh he was my grandfather,
Took me with him to hide,
And ance it fell upon a day
That wae did me betide.
“And ance it fell upon a day
A cauld day and a snell,
When we were frae the hunting come,
That frae my horse I fell,
The Queen o’ Fairies she caught me,
In yon green hill do dwell.
“And pleasant is the fairy land,
But, an eerie tale to tell,
Ay at the end of seven years,
We pay a tiend to hell,
I am sae fair and fu o flesh,
I’m feard it be mysel.
“But the night is Halloween, lady,
The morn is Hallowday,
Then win me, win me, an ye will,
For weel I wat ye may.
“Just at the mirk and midnight hour
The fairy folk will ride,
And they that wad their true-love win,
At Miles Cross they maun bide.”
“But how shall I thee ken, Tam Lin,
Or how my true-love know,
Amang sa mony unco knights,
The like I never saw?”
“O first let pass the black, lady,
And syne let pass the brown,
But quickly run to the milk-white steed,
Pu ye his rider down.
“For I’ll ride on the milk-white steed,
And ay nearest the town,
Because I was an earthly knight
They gie me that renown.
“My right hand will be gloved, lady,
My left hand will be bare,
Cockt up shall my bonnet be,
And kaimed down shall my hair,
And thae’s the takens I gie thee,
Nae doubt I will be there.
“They’ll turn me in your arms, lady,
Into an esk and adder,
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
I am your bairn’s father.
“They’ll turn me to a bear sae grim,
And then a lion bold,
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
And ye shall love your child.
“Again they’ll turn me in your arms
To a red het gand of airn,
But hold me fast, and fear me not,
I’ll do you nae harm.
“And last they’ll turn me in your arms
Into the burning gleed,
Then throw me into well water,
O throw me in with speed.
“And then I’ll be your ain true-love,
I’ll turn a naked knight,
Then cover me wi your green mantle,
And cover me out o sight.”
Gloomy, gloomy was the night,
And eerie was the way,
As fair Jenny in her green mantle
To Miles Cross she did gae.
About the middle o the night
She heard the bridles ring,
This lady was as glad at that
As any earthly thing.
First she let the black pass by,
And syne she let the brown,
But quickly she ran to the milk-white steed,
And pu’d the rider down.
Sae weel she minded what he did say,
And young Tam Lin did win,
Syne covered him wi her green mantle,
As blythe’s a bird in spring
Out then spak the Queen o Fairies,
Out of a bush o broom,
“Them that has gotten young Tam Lin
Has gotten a stately-groom.”
Out then spak the Queen o Fairies,
And an angry woman was she:
“Shame betide her ill-far’d face,
And an ill death may she die,
For she’s taen awa the bonniest knight
In a’ my companie.
“But had I kend, Tam Lin,”she says,
“What now this night I see,
I wad hae taen out thy twa grey een,
And put in twa een o tree.”
