Uploaded August 2024 | Updated September 2026, 3 weeks ago
Vocals & arrangement by Farya Faraji. This is a reupload from a 2021 version to correct some technical mixing errors, as well as amend the overly present emphasis on counterpoint in that original version, the latter technique not being particularly representative of Romanian music, during the 19th-18th centuries when this song seems to emerge.
This rather humorous folk song is a fascinating memory of a time when the Phanariots, a Greek elite class of the Ottoman Empire who resided in the Phanar district of Istanbul, hence their name, and who would occupy important positions as rulers of the Voivodes of Moldova and Wallachia in the 1700's. This presence as the ruling elite of those lands meant that Greek influences were pronounced at the time, with many of the educated having to learn Greek as a result, hence the existence of this song decrying having to learn Greek, and describing the language as unlearnable gibberish. The image on the picture is a portrait of the Mavrokordatos family who were distinguished Phanariots, with some of their family members like Nicholas having ruled over a Voivode in what would ultimately become the modern countries of Romania and Moldova. The song was collected by the musician, psaltist and folklorist Anton Pann in the 1852 book, Anton Pann, Spitalul amorului sau Cântătorul dorului, București, 1852. tiparituriromanesti.wordpress.com/2013/09/18/anton-pann-spitalul-amorului-sau-cantatorul-dorului-bucuresti-1852
This arrangement owes much to the works of Trei Parale and the artists featuring in the film Aferim! by Radu Jude, and represents a soundscape found in Wallachia at the time with the rise of Westernising influences in Romania, one decried by the great Barbu Lautaru in one of his songs. Unlike some of the more archaic interpretations of the song, this one is more recent and would best fit in the 1900's, with the țambal and violin appearing alongside the kaval, a more archaic instrument in the region. This arrangement foreshadows the appearance of Muzică Populară, the current commercialised form of traditional music found in Romania, whilst still retaining some of the more archaic, modal and non-harmonic language of pre-Westernisation music of the region.
Lyrics in Romanian:
Arză-l focul dascăl,
Cum mă necăjește,
Umblă să mă-nvețe
Grecul păsărește
Tipto tiptis tipto tiptis
Tipto tiptis tipto tis
Ah! Ce foc pe mine!
Of! Ce supărare!
Să strig toata ziua
Tot în gura mare
Tipto tiptis tipto tiptis
Tipto tiptis tipto tip
Ah! Ce bucurie
E pân’ țară mie
Când văd pe câmpie,
Mi se-arată mie:
Căprioare mâncătoare,
Prepelițe zburătoare,
Păsărele cântătoare,
Ce mă chem la vânătoare.
I haven't managed to find any word for word translations that would do the lyrics justice, so if any of our Romanian friends could provide one, I would be happy to add it to this description.
Vocals & arrangement by Farya Faraji. This is a reupload from a 2021 version to correct some technical mixing errors, as well as amend the overly present emphasis on counterpoint in that original version, the latter technique not being particularly representative of Romanian music, during the 19th-18th centuries when this song seems to emerge.
This rather humorous folk song is a fascinating memory of a time when the Phanariots, a Greek elite class of the Ottoman Empire who resided in the Phanar district of Istanbul, hence their name, and who would occupy important positions as rulers of the Voivodes of Moldova and Wallachia in the 1700's. This presence as the ruling elite of those lands meant that Greek influences were pronounced at the time, with many of the educated having to learn Greek as a result, hence the existence of this song decrying having to learn Greek, and describing the language as unlearnable gibberish. The image on the picture is a portrait of the Mavrokordatos family who were distinguished Phanariots, with some of their family members like Nicholas having ruled over a Voivode in what would ultimately become the modern countries of Romania and Moldova. The song was collected by the musician, psaltist and folklorist Anton Pann in the 1852 book, Anton Pann, Spitalul amorului sau Cântătorul dorului, București, 1852. tiparituriromanesti.wordpress.com/2013/09/18/anton-pann-spitalul-amorului-sau-cantatorul-dorului-bucuresti-1852
This arrangement owes much to the works of Trei Parale and the artists featuring in the film Aferim! by Radu Jude, and represents a soundscape found in Wallachia at the time with the rise of Westernising influences in Romania, one decried by the great Barbu Lautaru in one of his songs. Unlike some of the more archaic interpretations of the song, this one is more recent and would best fit in the 1900's, with the țambal and violin appearing alongside the kaval, a more archaic instrument in the region. This arrangement foreshadows the appearance of Muzică Populară, the current commercialised form of traditional music found in Romania, whilst still retaining some of the more archaic, modal and non-harmonic language of pre-Westernisation music of the region.
Lyrics in Romanian:
Arză-l focul dascăl,
Cum mă necăjește,
Umblă să mă-nvețe
Grecul păsărește
Tipto tiptis tipto tiptis
Tipto tiptis tipto tis
Ah! Ce foc pe mine!
Of! Ce supărare!
Să strig toata ziua
Tot în gura mare
Tipto tiptis tipto tiptis
Tipto tiptis tipto tip
Ah! Ce bucurie
E pân’ țară mie
Când văd pe câmpie,
Mi se-arată mie:
Căprioare mâncătoare,
Prepelițe zburătoare,
Păsărele cântătoare,
Ce mă chem la vânătoare.
I haven't managed to find any word for word translations that would do the lyrics justice, so if any of our Romanian friends could provide one, I would be happy to add it to this description.




![Peroz of China - Epic Chinese Iranian Music
Music & vocals by Farya Faraji, guzheng by Yiang Ling, erhu by Amanda Toh, artwork by J.F Oliveras: https://jfoliveras.artstation.com/projects/NGd80J
This is me having some fun mixing together the modern Iranian and Chinese musical traditions as a thematic way to represent Peroz III, the son of the last Sasanian Emperor who went to exile in China. Promoted as a high ranking military officer of the Tang-era Chinese realm, he would, alongside his son Narsieh, try to reconquer Iran with the military aid of China from the hands of the Arab Muslims, but would ultimately fail to do so. Despite this, a Zoroastrian, Iranian diaspora would continue to exist in China for many centuries afterwards as refugees from the Islamic invasion of Iran.
The main melody at the beginning was created from first writing a typical Iranian melody in the mode of Shur, and then subtracting notes from it in order to create a pentatonic effect; the principal melodic form of Chinese music. I also added my Sasanian leitmotif, played in the manner of modern Persian Classical music using the setar, tar and oud, with the tombak as the drum accompaniment. The Iranian daf provides the main percussions throughout most of the piece, and theyre accompanied by the guzheng, erhu, yangqin, a Chinese dulcimer, the santour, a closely related Iranian dulcimer, and the Iranian ney flute.
More interestingly, the melody that starts at 02:48 is a historical melody from circa the period of Peroz III, played on modern Chinese instruments. Called Jiu Huzi, or the Wine Puppet, this melody comes to us from Tang-era China, and was transcribed in the 70s by Laurence Picken, who found it surviving in 12th century Japanese manuscripts, where it was called Shukoshi. The reason I featured this melody goes beyond its era-appropriate nature, as its a piece of music that is inherently linked to the Iranian world. The piece of music seems to be in reference to a tradition of puppetry that portrayed Sogdians, an Iranic people related to the Persians, whose wine seemed to have been prized by the local Chinese. An important Sogdian diaspora seemed to exist there, and these puppets would portray the exotically dressed, red-haired and blue eyed Sogdian character getting drunk and falling over. In The Golden Peaches of Samarkand: A Study of Tang Exotics (1963), Edward H. Schafer, paraphrasing the Japanese scholar Ishida Mikinosuke, writes: The same young poets who languished over the pretty Iranian waitresses in the metropolitan wineshops laughed at the little puppets representing drunken Sogdians, with their peaked caps, blue eyes, and high noses, with which they played in houses of prostitution when the ridiculous puppet fell over, the guest at whom it pointed had to empty his cup... These puppets were called chiu hu-tzu [i.e., jiu huzi, 酒胡子] or pu tsui hsien [i.e., bu zui xian, 捕醉仙].
The lyrics come from the Ballad of King Vahram, part of which I sang in my song of the same name from 2021. A piece of Middle-Persian Zoroastrian text from after the Islamic invasion (some scholars argue very soon after the invasion), it represent the hopes of the Zoroastrian Iranians for the return of a messianic figure from India who will drive away the Muslims and restore the native religion to the land.
Middle-Persian lyrics:
Be niger ka čand wad abgand ān druz pad ēn gēhān ka nēst wattar az ōy andar gēhān.
Mazgitīhā frōd hilēm, be nišānēm ātaxšān uzdēszārīhā be kanēm ud pāk kunēm az gēhān, tā wany šawēnd druz-wišūdagān az ēn gēhān.
Frazaft pad drōd šādīh
English translation:
Behold how much evil that demon has cast upon the world,
There is no more evil than they in the world,
We will destroy the mosques, establish fires,
We will raze the idol temples and blot them from the world,
Til evil gets destroyed, the daevic creature from the world,
Finished with salutations and happiness. Peroz of China - Epic Chinese Iranian Music](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/jeJ2YeOUO84/mqdefault.jpg)





