Black is the color of my true love’s hair,
Her lips are like a rose so fair—
The sweetest face, and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon she stands…
I sing for my love in Kingston for she has moved with her mama to a new apartment and I have not heard word for nearly forever.
I look to the northwest through the green leaves of spring to the blue sky above, knowing that we share the same sky and the same sun.
I love my love and well she knows:
I love the ground whereon she goes,
I wish the day it soon would come
When she and I would be as one…
She of the wondrous hair.
And so I sing through the open window into the springtime and hope my song reaches my sweet precious sleek black belle femme Mademoiselle Daisy Emerald Marguerite from the Canadian town named for kings next to the great river. Somehow I know, though she be surrounded by eligible black cats who actually enter her home as guests, that she wants me to be her love!
I know that soon I will have a reply…
The lyrics to “Black is the Color of My True Love’s Hair” are traditional, arising from the Appalachian Mountains of Kentucky and first transcribed by John Jacob Niles in 1915, though the song form and the mention of the river Clyde likely refer back to Scotland, though there is no known form of the song in Scotland prior to the mid-twentieth century.
A few links to this song for those who asked.
The first version I every heard, by Joan Baez, still my favorite.
And a vintage version by an unknown group—please let us know if you recognize it.
And the Nina Simone version—a great melody can be owned by everyone.
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