The Songstone

This gem on Some East London Street Cries   from John Wells's phonetic blog. The phonetic transcriptions are clear enough, although it's interesting to note the symbol changes over the last 100 years. What shines is the humour; I can just picture the Edwardian gent about town, observing the bustle with glee: "clearness is far from being a marked characteristic of the street salesman". Note his pronunciation of 'what' and 'which' as 'hwot' and 'hwich', a pronunciation I have never heard outside of period films. 

Not mine but I did this one in the Guardian today on English dialect words. On finishing I was thrilled to learn I was a WOMBAT: Waste of Money, Brains and Time, which seems a bit unfair, to the wombat. I do not know if Mr. de Boinod is the author of this acephalous anti-marsupial hysteria but he is at least associated with it; perhaps a serendipitous koala once shat on his head in Wallamaloo. My score was so low that the median inebriated wombat would have done better, as I hope you do if you try it.

Come a strutted matador horns that scream a life out Spain n Dutch, the bloody thrust gored 'em in the vitals Yayo shot at Franco in 1936 morphous unconnected forms added to a mix © Simon M Hunter 2010

Braids of strong garlic have repelled some critics. Vampire scribes! Biting at 'banality', they cannot hear beauty in the dreamy metre, singing so quietly. © Simon M Hunter 2010

A translation of Bella ciao per tutti i compagni caduti In the morning, I was awakened Bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! Yes, in the morning, I was awakened I saw invaders all around O freedom fighter, take me from here, Bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! O freedom fighter, take me from here, Or else I’m sure to die of grief And if I die a freedom fighter Bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! And if I die a freedom fighter You should bury me up high Bury me high, high on the mountain, Bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! Bury me high, high on the mountain Under the gentle flower’s shade And all the people who pass me by Bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! And all the people who pass me by Sing “The gentle flower” rime “That’s the flower of freedom’s fighter Bella, ciao! bella, ciao! bella, ciao, ciao, ciao! “That’s the flower of freedom’s fighter And he died in freedom’s cause” ©

Not my poem, obviously, but I've transcribed it as I would read it. Thanks to Hic8ubique and DeadGod at the Guardian's Poem of the Week blog for comments and suggestions. © Simon M Hunter 2010