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about
On a radio broadcast in 1959, the great American bass-baritone Paul
Robeson told a story about “Lil’ Gal,” J. Rosamund Johnson’s (1873–1954) setting of the poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872–1906). “Years ago in Harlem, NY, when I used to sing it, my wife Eslanda says that every girl I happened to look at thought I was singing it just for her. Well, maybe that’s the way it should be with a song like ‘Lil’ Gal.’” Dunbar was one of America’s very first influential Black poets, gaining an international
reputation early on. Born to parents who had been enslaved in Kentucky,
Dunbar has been criticized for his use of Black dialect in his poems, but Langston Hughes spoke admiringly of being brought up on Dunbar’s poems, and Robeson went so far as to call him “our Robert Burns.” In recent years, Dunbar’s reputation as a great poet has been reclaimed. Johnson’s music, along with his decision to omit the second of Dunbar’s three verses, transforms it from a light lyric poem into a fervent love song.
The Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and ’30’s was fertile ground for many of the artists included in this collection, arguably laying the foundation for all African American writers and composers since. One of its most prominent and influential figures was Langston Hughes (1902–1967), the playwright, novelist, poet, and activist. In this collection of twenty-two songs, eight are set to texts by Hughes.
lyrics
Li’l Gal
(Paul Laurence Dunbar)
Oh, de weathah it is balmy an’ de breeze is sighin’ low.
Li’l’ gal,
An’ de mockin’ bird is singin’ in de locus’ by de do’,
Li’l’ gal;
Dere’s a hummin’ an’ a bummin’ in de lan’ f'om eas’ to wes’,
I’s a-sighin’ fu’ you, honey, an’ I nevah know no res’.
Fu’ dey’s lots o’ trouble brewin’ an’ a-stewin’ in my breas’,
Li’l’ gal.
Whut’s de mattah wid de weathah, whut’s de mattah wid de breeze,
Li’l’ gal?
Whut’s de mattah wid de locus’ dat’s a-singin’ in de trees,
Li’l’ gal?
W’y dey knows dey ladies love ’em, an’ dey knows dey love ’em true,
An’ dey love ’em back, I reckon, des’ lak I’s a-lovin’ you;
Dat’s de reason dey’s a-weavin’ an’ a-sighin’, thoo an’ thoo,
Li’l’ gal.
Don’t you let no da’ky fool you ’cause de clo’es he waihs is fine,
Li’l’ gal.
Dey’s a hones’ hea’t a-beatin’ unnerneaf dese rags o’ mine,
Li’l’ gal.
Cose dey ain’ no use in mockin’ whut de birds an’ weathah do,
But I’s so’y I cain’t ’spress it w’en I knows I loves you true,
Dat’s de reason I’s a-sighin’ an’ a-singin now fu’ you,
Li’l’ gal.
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