There’s probably an applicable (quasi-)Biblical reference of which I am unaware, but this stomped-on, clickable Jesus in a rural Maresme cemetery, rose petals lodged in his broken heart, reminded me of Barbry Allen:

Sweet William died on a Saturday night
And Barbara died on Sunday
Her mother died for the love of both
And was buried on Easter Monday.

They buried Willie in the old churchyard
And Barbara there anigh him
And out of his grave grew a red, red rose
And out of hers a briar.

They grew and grew in the old churchyard
Till they couldn’t grow no higher
They lapped and tied in a true love’s knot
The rose ran around the briar.

I grew up with the Joan Baez recording, which is different textually and musically in my memory from both Thomas Porter’s Appalachian and British versions, of which the former is used here. Here’s a beautiful 1969 version from Sara Jo Bell of Harrison, Arkansas. Does the bell belong to her front door or her alarm clock?

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Categories: Music, Splog

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