This weekend we are not supposed to be singing, but Jazzfest is streaming on. I signed up to volunteer for coastal restoration. Et bon gré mal gré, on chantera comme on chante toujours le “moys” de mai.
On chantera des renards.
Now is the month of Maying.
“The Spring clad all in gladness / doth laugh at Winter’s sadness.” “Ce moys de mai, ma verte cotte / ma verte cotte je vestirai.”
Axé.
coldhearted scientist وداد 