I should have known that the FNAC would have a recording I would like, and we could hear, of ladino folk songs. I am fascinated by Ladino or Judaeo-Spanish because it is so creolized, and so full of archaisms. As in this lyric:
Avre este abajour, bijou,
avre la tu ventana;
por ver tu kara morena
al Dio daré mi alma.
Por la tu puerta yo pasí
y la topí cerrada;
la llabedura yo bezí,
komo bezar tu kara.
No quiero más ke me hables,
ni por mi puerta pases;
mas antes me kerías bien,
angora te gelates.
Si tú te mí te olvidarás
tu hermozura pierderás;
ningún niño t’endeñará,
en los mis brazos mueras.
Open your shade, my jewel, open your window; I would give my soul to see your dark face. There is much more to say about Ladino, which some consider to be a dying language, although I am not convinced. I like its chaotic proliferation of -ir verbs. As in these phrases: Yo demandí por tu hermozura, cómo te la dio el Dio, and me kasí. The relevant infinitives appear to be “demandir” and “kasirse,” which, to the modern standard ear, sound gloriously transgressive.
Axé.
coldhearted scientist وداد 
I have a student who wants to do her senior project on Ladino, so I will send her this link. Merci.
The best of these songs is “Mama yo no tengo visto.” (I am too lazy right now to put in diacritical marks.)
I like it for grammatical reasons. Louisiana French often reverses etre and avoir, but here we have tener instead of haber, which without being a linguist I intuit is a similar move.
End verse (you have to buy the recording or know the song too hear):
Desposate mi kerido
konfiticos m’enviardas
komere kon amargura
tambien kon mucho llorar.
I do not know what “konfiticos” (kon fiticos?) means.