(To “the jolly beggarman”)
I am a little minstrel girl which can be very hard,
for always I must travel and then at the first light part.
I sleep on floors or in the hay and eat my bread all dry
Though I am the finest artist I still in the gutter lie.
Sometimes when I sing a copper falls besides my bench.
but they also throuw tomatoes and I do abhor the stench.
I sing just like a lark but still some do think me a curse
so I’ve learned to run real fast because a beating is much worse.
I’ve written many songs which no one ever will forget,
unfortunately often someone really gets upset
For I always tell the truth which I will never overdo,
But that’s why I’m hunted, unacknowledged and a poor one too.
And sometimes a real puffed up disdainful lord who then will soon forget
will throw with a grand gesture copper coins into my hat,
so I should sing of him like there is only good I see,
but it’s only hands of gold can dim the light of truth for me.
I sing too high, not hard enough or just do it all wrong,
whatever I do try some keep disliking every song.
But tell me who knows more then me about a lively tune?
Who complains can try themselves or take a journey to the moon.
So I will keep on singing despite all my sweat and pain,
because one day I finally a place at court will gain.
Until that time I ask if you would with a copper part,
which is not much asked for hearing Unappreciated Art.
I am a little minstrel girl, I’m sure that more was meant
In time I will be famous, my succes will soon be sent
so I will keep on travelling with lute and drum and tent
because if I am discovered all those people will repent.