The day after SCUNA’s Mozart/Szymanowsky concert, I went along to a tourney and wrote this for the winner, who just happened to be my favourite filkee, Sir Brusi Anderson of the Shetlands. Tragically, I don’t recall which bit of the Szymanowsky Stabat Mater I’m filking here, and the lyrics won’t help you cos the original’s in Polish. I can hum it for you, if you like.
[March 1996]
Brusi fought in tourneys and wars,
Brusi fought and Brusi scored,
When Brusi fought.
Every man who fell at his hand,
Every man in every land
An answer sought.
How could he so easily win?
What inspired this man in tin,
When Brusi fought?
Brusi said, and humbly spoke he,
“I owe my constant victory
“To my consort!”
Alice was the one who inspired;
Alice smiled and Bruce perspired,
When Brusi fought.