The Dead Brother's Song - Lyrics

Lyrics

The "The Dead Brother's Song" has the following lyrics:

Mother with your nine sons and with your only daughter,

the precious the most beloved daughter.

She was twelve years old and the sun had not seen her.

In darkness she bathed her and without moonlight she is making her hair,

under the star and the Bringer of Light she was tying her ribbons.

They’ve sent men from Babylon to ask her as a bride,

to take Arete too far away in the foreign lands.

The eight brothers don’t want and Constantine wants.

-My mother lets give Arete as a bride to the foreign lands.

Abroad, there that I am walking, in the foreign lands that I am travelling,

And if we go abroad, not to be considered foreigners.

-You are wise Constantis, but you replied wrongly.

And if, my son, to me comes death, and if, my son, illness happens to come to me,

If bitterness or joy comes, who will go to bring her back to me?

-I quote the Heaven as judge and the Saints as witnesses,

if death happens to come, if happens to come illness,

if bitterness or joy comes, I will go to bring her to you.

And once they gave Arete as bride in the foreign lands

and years of misery and months of anger came

and death fell upon them and the nine brothers died

the mother was left all alone.

In all the graves she was crying, in all she was mourning

In front of Constantine’s grave she was pulling her hair off.

“Damn you, Constantis, and damn you a myriad times,

cause you exiled my Arete in the foreign lands!

The promise that you gave me when will you fulfil?

You quoted the Heaven as judge and the Saints as witnesses

that if bitterness or joy comes, you will go to bring her to me”.

From the myriad anathemas and the heavy curse,

the earth was shaken and Constantis came out.

He turns the cloud into horse and the star into bridle

and the moon into companion and goes to bring her back.

He leaves the mounts behind him and the mountains in front.

He founds her making her hair out, under the moonlight.

From far away he greets her and from a close distance he tells her:

-Stand up sister to leave, lets go to our mother.

-Alas, my brother, and why that time of the night?

If maybe it is cause of joy, I should wear my jewels and come

and if it is cause of bitterness, tell me that, to get dressed in black and come.

-Come Arete in our home and let it be the way you are.

He kneels the horse and makes her sit behind.

In the way they were going, little birds were singing.

They were not singing like birds, nor like swallows,

but they were only singing and saying with human voice:

“Who has seen a beautiful lady being led by a dead?”!

-Did you hear, my Constantine, what the little birds are saying?

-They are little birds and let them sing, they are little birds and let them say.

And a little further on their way other little birds are telling them:

“Isn’t pity and unfair, very strange,

the alive to walk along with the dead?”!

-Did you hear, my Constantine, what the little birds are saying?

That the alive walk along with the dead.

-It is April and they sing and May and they are nesting.

-I am afraid of you my brother and you smell frankincense.

Last night we went far away to Saint John’s

and the priest incensed us with too much frankincense.

And even later on their way more little birds are telling them:

“Look what a miracle and evil takes place in the world,

such a beautiful delicate lady being led by the dead!”

Arete heard that again and her heart was broken.

-Did you hear, my Constantine, what the little birds are saying?

-Stop Arete talking about the birds and let them say whatever they want!

-Tell me were is your beauty and your manfulness

and your blonde hair and the beautiful moustache?

-It’s been a long time since I got ill and my hair has fallen.

Over there, near there, they arrive to the church.

He mightily hits his horse and is lost from in front of her.

And she hears the gravestone clashing, the soil buzzing.

Arete sets off and goes home by herself.

She sees her gardens leafless, the trees sickly

she sees the mint dried, the carnation turned black

she sees in front of her door grass having grown.

She finds the door locked and the keys having been taken

and the windows of the house been tightly bolted.

She knocks the door mightily, the windows are crunching.

-If you are a friend, come in, and if you are an enemy, go away

and if you are bitter Charon, I don’t have more sons

and my poor little Arete is far away in the foreign lands.

-Stand up my mother, open the door, stand up my sweet mother.

-Who is the one who knocks my door and calls me “mother”?

-Open the door, my mother, open it and it is me, your Arete.

She came down, they hugged and they both fell dead.