Lisa Lân

The humble yet mighty courgette

Last night I had dinner with my father (which was a first step towards spending less time online and more time face to face with family and friends). We went to a lovely Italian restaurant called Da Mario. The meal was amazing and I made sure to really properly taste it. I had veal cooked in Marsala wine with black truffle, garlic spinach, fried courgettes and roast potatoes. Awww lovely! I was right royally spoiled!

Is there anything more fantastic than fried courgettes? Or garlicky spinach? I could probably eat both every day if I was given half the chance.

Anyway, after a delightful dinner with the fantastic company of my own father, I came home to snooze in bed and listen to Classic FM on the radio and heard the most lovely song: Lisa Lân sung by Katherine Jenkins, a prominent Welsh opera singer. I just thought it was such beautiful tune, both romantic and also sort of melancholy. In my opinion all the best love songs have a melancholy edge to them. After all, love is wonderful but it is also intense and can make a person heartsick with longing.

Lisa Lân is a traditional Welsh folk tune that is actually sung in the Welsh language and being a 1/4 Welsh myself, I am interested in most things Welsh (I am also 1/4 Armenian and Polish and 1/8 German and Swiss and of course flattened over all of it is my American and British heritage - don't worry I give them all equal time and attention, as well as other cultures I am fascinated by such as Japan, Ancient Greece (can I include that?!) and more recently Cambodia (don't ask me why!)). Anyway, I love this song and its spooky tune. And in honor of my dear husband's 31st birthday today, I am going to play it for him while I serve him tea and breakfast in bed.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HWSJfe26FNk

The lyrics are (translated from Welsh):

Full many a time I came to woo,

Oft, Lisa I came a courting you;

I kissed your lips when we did meet,

No honey ever was so sweet

My dainty branch, my only dear,

No woman comes your beauty near;

'Tis you who with my passion play

'Tis you who steals my life away

When I go walking through the day,

My lovesick heart will turn to clay,

And but to hear the small birds sing,

The longing to my soul will bring

When'er at eve I walk apart,

Like wax will melt my lovesick heart,

And but to hear the small birds sing,

The longing to my soul will bring

Ah, will you come to bid good-bye,

When in the earth my form must lie?

I hope you too will there be found,

When men shall lay me in the ground

The longing to my soul will bring

The longing to my soul will bring