The Recipe of Gold

Different ways of cooking have done on this uncommon fermented soybeans, or known as "tempe" to the locals. It has been known to be exotic to many. Dried chillies, onions, and garlics has been mixed to be near perfect concoction of paste to taste. Yet still, the taste has been blended into flawless state. The sauteed tempe of gold was cooked with the paste and will give this recipe of gold.

It may have the peculiar taste not known to many, best described to have the taste of mushroom and nut blend. Physically looked peculiar yet cause minor goosebumps to some, as best described to be seen like a cooked honeycombs.

Tale of Mediaeval Musick

Note: The old Shakespearean English may cause confusion with modern English.

_.-~*~-._

The exquisite musick, dully echoes, as far to the "ears", in Apthe Forest.
D'livered music message, that of “love letter”, tendered hearts of insomniac, to the fullest.

Inland cavalero of Castilian, in his cage of decades, in custody, with musical knowledge, interpreted "Mit ganczem Willen", understood. That, our tongue known as "With All My Heart I Wish You", giving a mediaeval picture, of romantic condolement.

Within, wards are in convive, commoners' dishes, unconcious of most sounds. Yet, people of cages, fed on almost, clack-dishes.

Meantime outside, chucks as though performing a cinque pace, undisturbed, portraying that cavalero's beloved was singing chanson of Mit ganczem Willen, with high treble cliff.

Whilst in cage, nameless cavalero, having chewit, no cowish, carved his characters onto wall, of unheard lyrics, for posterity.

His beloved, has childing one decade ago. Their nine-yeared knave, awaits for common mediaeval clash. Though cavalero clings, clack-dishes remain untouched. He suffered to home poynt, of that circumstance, with cracker and undertaker. Cracker credited to generous, then to high ordinance, brought him into darkness, put him under a crare, for countless decades.

A crownet sounded afar, his time is nigh, to done to death, with his cock-and-pie delivered, inevitable hest, death succeed, with a fox of argentine, blood-boltered. Seen by his beloved's very eyes.

Death of cavalero, baffled his beloved. All haps were hented, including her barm, his later juvenal, was unheard since. With no noble, her life was eager, being harried, forced be a bona-roba, drab, harlot, hiren, of all brothels. She had her foison of drolleries from above.

Her eld, a recluse in dearn, virginalling her sullen Mit ganczem Willen, craving for her lethe. Lyrics of threne were lost, a song without words, remains until now, or maybe eterne...

_.-~*~-._

Tale scripted is owned by the author, all rights reserved.

Romantic Story of Henry VIII

As the promises kept in heart of gold, yet to be released freedom of bold, for eyes of many but mood of old, shall not express it here, at least it is now to hear...

King Henry VIII's (debated) song o' love in Renaissance, according to people's nuisance, in which lute and soprano voice that one list'ns, the notes, pleasantly enter into ear, not even it is near.



Handsome, gifted and recently married to Catherine of Aragon, King Henry VIII was the envy of Europe when he penned 35 royal compositions in the early years of his long and turbulent reign. Truly a Renaissance prince, he was also a gifted composer who excelled in portraying the pleasures of courtly life through words and music. His daughter, Elizabeth, inherited his gifts, and was a keen dancer and an excellent performer on the virginals.

The old song Greensleeves is a traditional English folk song dating back to the sixteenth century. There has been considerable debate regarding the identity of the composer of the lyrics and music or melody of the song Greensleeves. The most popular belief about the identity of the composer relates to the legend that the words and lyrics of the song were written for Anne Boleyn (1502-1536) by King Henry VIII (1491-1547) during their turbulent courtship. Anne, the youngest daughter of Thomas Boleyn, First Earl of Wiltshire, rejected Henry's attempts to seduce her. This rejection is apparently referred to in the song, when the writer's love "cast me off discourteously". It is not known if the legend is true, but the song is still commonly associated with Boleyn in the public mind.

Alas, my love, you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously
For I have loved you well and long
Delighting in your company.

_.-~*~-._
Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight
Greensleeves was my heart of gold
And who but my lady Greensleeves

Your vows you've broken, like my heart
Oh, why did you so enrapture me
Now I remain in a world apart
But my heart remains in captivity

_.-~*~-._

I have been ready at your hand,
To grant whatever you would crave,
I have both wagered life and land,
Your love and good-will for to have.

_.-~*~-._

If you intend thus to disdain,
It does the more enrapture me,
And even so, I still remain
A lover in captivity.

_.-~*~-._

Ah, Greensleeves, now farewell, adieu,
To God I pray to prosper thee,
For I am still thy lover true,
Come once again and love me.

_.-~*~-._