Isabella (Orchestral version) Contemporary Folk
Released August 18, 2014
Sound Recording
PLUS
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James Fraser ("offthewall") South Shields near Newcastle Tyneside United Kingdom Other releases |
Acoustic guitars, production. |
PRO
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Joel Sattler ("joel_sattlersongs") Chevy Chase Maryland USA Other releases |
Lyrics and adaptation. |
PLUS
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Kevin Skiles ("lincredible54") Salem Oregon USA Other releases |
Musical composition and guidance. |
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Ted Campbell ("TedC") Dallas Texas USA Other releases |
Orchestration. Cellos, flute, oboe. |
PLUS
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Denise F ("LadyD") Newcastle United Kingdom Other releases |
Vocals and final lyric revisions. |
When we did this song I was trying to get my LadyD back into singing after a long break.
I commissioned Joel and Kevin to come up with this adaptation of one of her favourite poems.
ISABELLA, OR THE POT OF BASIL song lyrics by Joel Sattler,
revised by Denise Fraser
based on the poem by John Keats,
based on a story by Boccaccio
Fair Isabella loved a lad wrong for her
Her brothers' vassal, a common labourer
Lorenzo had a love so pure
Such burning heat could scarce endure
Each day their love it grew more sure
A malady with no cure
The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave
Barely deserving of the place that they gave
They conspired, they would take his life
She would never be his wife
They led him to the wood and laid him down
Told Isabella he could not be found
Taken a ship for foreign lands
To wander alone on distant sands
Thinking they were free, ?twas not to be
They had joined the damned
The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave
Barely deserving of the place that they gave
They conspired, then they took his life
She would never be his wife
Lorenzo came to Isabella in a dream
Said in the forest I am buried by a stream
Said come and find me where I'm dead
Don't be afraid that's what he said
She found the body and there she took his head
Placed it in a pot instead
The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave
Barely deserving of the place that they gave
They conspired, and then took his life
She would never be his wife
She filled the pot with basil at the top
Watered it with tears, would leave it not
The brothers watched her as she pined
Stole the vase only to find
The sight within, it horrified
Triumph within them, it died.
The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave
Barely deserving of the place that they gave
They conspired, and then took his life
She would never be his wife
Grieving Isabella, sad on vast estate
No love, no family, all to do was wait
Wait for the hour of her death
The last long drawing of her breath
The moment that her life at last would end
To be with her Lorenzo once again ....
They conspired, but they took her life
She will never be his wife.