Musinique

Pretty Little Cavalinhos | Lyrical Literacy Lullaby
This Lyrical Literacy Lullaby presents a melodic bilingual reimagining of the classic lullaby "All the Pretty Little Horses." The arrangement weaves together the traditional English verses with Portuguese lines ("Todos os lindos cavalinhos"), creating a soothing multicultural soundscape. The expanded lyrics paint vivid imagery of magical horses with "silver saddles" and "golden reins," carrying listeners through dreamy landscapes "where fireflies and dream seeds blow." This gentle composition bridges cultural traditions while maintaining the comforting essence of the original lullaby, making it perfect for both children's bedtime and language learning.
Origin
"All the Pretty Little Horses" is a traditional American lullaby that likely originated in the Southern United States during the 19th century. Some musicologists believe it may have African American origins, possibly sung by enslaved mothers to their children. The song became widely known through folk music collections and has been recorded by numerous artists over the decades. This adaptation preserves the core melody and opening verses of the traditional lullaby while expanding it with Portuguese translations and original verses that enhance the dreamlike equine imagery of the original.
Hush a bye don’t you cryGo to sleepy little babyWhen you wake you shall haveAll the pretty little horses
Painted ponies black and grayTails like clouds that drift awaySilken manes and dancing hooves
Hush a bye don’t you cryAll the pretty horses flyTodos os lindos cavalinhosDurma agora sem chorarVai sonhar meu docinho
Silver saddles golden reinsSoftest winds through windowpanesYou shall ride in morning lightWith horses glowing pure and whiteThrough the fields where willows growWhere fireflies and dream seeds blowAnd if you weep the stars will swayThe moon will hum your fears awayA lullaby for sleepy heads
Sleepy headsHush a bye don’t you cryAll the pretty horses flyTodos os lindos cavalinhosDurma agora sem chorarVai sonhar meu docinhoHush a bye don’t you cryAll the pretty horses fly
 
#BilingualLullaby #LyricalLiteracy #PrettyLittleHorses #PortugueseEnglish #MulticulturalMusic #ChildrensSongs #DreamyLullabies #MusicEducation #FolkMusic #SleepyTimeMusic #HumanitariansAI
 
Humanitarians AI
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The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot (1915)
"The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" was first published in the June 1915 issue of Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, and later included in T.S. Eliot's first collection, "Prufrock and Other Observations" (1917).
This poem is considered one of the most important works of modernist poetry. Eliot actually wrote the poem between 1910 and 1911 while he was a graduate student at Harvard, but it wasn't published until several years later with help from Ezra Pound, who championed Eliot's work.
The poem represents a dramatic shift in poetic style, featuring a fragmented narrative structure and the internal monologue of its anxious, indecisive narrator. It's known for its memorable opening lines and the recurring themes of social anxiety, isolation, and the difficulties of communication.
 
S’io credesse che mia risposta fosseA persona che mai tornasse al mondo,Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.Ma percioche giammai di questo fondoNon torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.
Let us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherized upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question ...
 
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
 
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
 
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
 
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
 
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
 
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —
(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —
(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)
Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
 
For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
               So how should I presume?
 
And I have known the eyes already, known them all—
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?
               And how should I presume?
 
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)
Is it perfume from a dress
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
               And should I then presume?
               And how should I begin?
 
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...
 
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
 
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet — and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
 
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it towards some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head
               Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;
               That is not it, at all.”
 
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
               “That is not it at all,
               That is not what I meant, at all.”
 
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use,
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
 
I grow old ... I grow old ...
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
 
Shall I part my hair behind?   Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
 
I do not think that they will sing to me.
 
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.
 
Nik Bear Brownhttps://open.spotify.com/artist/0hSpFCJodAYMP2cWK72zI6?si=9Fx2UusBQHi3tTyVEAoCDQhttps://music.apple.com/us/artist/nik-bear-brown/1779725275https://nikbear.musinique.com
 
 

Sacred Emily by Gertrude Stein, 1913 (Spoken Word Nik Bear)
 
Argonauts  That is plenty  Cunning saxon symbol  Symbol of beauty  Thimble of everything  Cunning clover thimble  Cunning of everything  Cunning of thimble  Cunning cunning  
Place in pets  Night town  Night town a glass  Color mahogany  Color mahogany center  Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose  
Loveliness extreme  Extra gaiters  Loveliness extreme  Sweetest ice cream  
Page ages page ages page ages  Wiped wiped wire wire  Sweeter than peaches and pears and cream  Wiped wire wiped wire  Extra extreme  
Put measure treasure  Measure treasure  Tables track  Nursed  Dough  That will do  
Cup or cup or  Excessively illigitimate  Pussy pussy pussy what what  Current secret sneezers  Ever  Mercy for a dog  Medal make medal  Able able able  
A go to green and a letter spoke a go to green or praise or  Worships worships worships  Door  Do or  Table linen  
Wet spoil  Wet spoil gaiters and knees and little spools little spools or ready silk lining  Suppose misses misses  Curls to butter  Curls  Curls  Settle stretches  
See at till  Louise  Sunny  Sail or  Sail or rustle  Mourn in morning  
The way to say  Patter  Deal own a  Robber  A high b and a perfect sight  Little things singer  Jane  Aiming  Not in description  Day way  A blow is delighted
 
Nik Bear Brownhttps://open.spotify.com/artist/0hSpFCJodAYMP2cWK72zI6?si=9Fx2UusBQHi3tTyVEAoCDQ
https://music.apple.com/us/artist/nik-bear-brown/1779725275
https://nikbear.musinique.com
 

No More Pharaohs No More Kings Let My People Go
 
If you refuse to let them go I will send a plague of frogs on your whole countryThe frogs will come up into your palace and your bedroom and onto your bedInto the houses of your officials and on your people and into your ovens and kneading troughsThe frogs will come up on you and your people and all your officials
They build their thrones on broken backsLet my people goBut we the many will push backLet my people go
If you won't let them go then knowThe frogs will rise from down belowThey'll fill your bed and block your doorIn ovens bowls and every floorThey'll leap upon the kings and cooksFrom gold tiled halls to hidden nooksThis is the warning loud and lowLet my people go
Thus saith the Lord bold Moses saidLet my people goIf not your power shall lose its threadLet my people goNo crown no law that steals the breadLet my people goWe rise for justice not for dreadLet my people go
If you won't let them go then knowThe frogs will rise from down belowThey'll fill your bed and block your doorIn ovens bowls and every floorThey'll leap upon the kings and cooksFrom gold tiled halls to hidden nooksThis is the warning loud and lowLet my people go
From border wall to banker's gateLet my people goThe people's voice will liberateLet my people goWe are manyThey are fewLet my people goNo more PharaohsNo more kingsLet my people go
 
Mayfield Kinghttps://music.apple.com/gb/artist/mayfield-king/1846526759
https://open.spotify.com/artist/6vpw3aw6hEJRPHgYGrN3kX?si=_WzqjRRwSQa5AtEUEjyv4w
https://mayfield.musinique.com
 
 

Twas the night before Christmas (Mayfield)
 
’Twas the night before Christmas all through the houseNot a creature was stirring not even a mouse
The stockings were hung by the chimney with careIn hopes that St Nicholas soon would be thereThe children were dreaming so snug in their bedsWhile visions of sugar plums danced in their heads
Oh ‘twas the night the magical nightWhen the world held its breath under silver moonlightThe snow fell soft the stars shone brightOh ‘twas the night the Christmas night
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatterI sprang from my bed to see what was the matterAway to the window I flew like a flashThrew open the shutters and lifted the sash
Oh the moon on the snow it shimmered so clearAnd then I saw him the man of the year
With a sleigh full of toys and eight tiny deerAnd a jolly old driver who brought Christmas cheerNow Dasher now Dancer now Prancer and VixenOn Comet on Cupid on Donner and Blitzen
Oh ‘twas the night the magical nightWhen the world held its breath under silver moonlightThe snow fell soft the stars shone brightOh ‘twas the night the Christmas night
Down the chimney he came his fur trimmed with sootA sack full of treasures from head to his footHis eyes how they twinkled his dimples so merryHis cheeks red as roses his nose like a cherry
And he laughed with a belly that shook like jellyA right jolly elf so warm and friendly
He didn’t speak a word but went straight to his workFilled all the stockings then turned with a jerkHe laid a finger aside of his noseAnd up the chimney with a nod he rose
Oh ‘twas the night the magical nightWhen the world held its breath under silver moonlightThe snow fell soft the stars shone brightOh ‘twas the night the Christmas night
And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sightHappy Christmas to all and to all a good night
Oh ‘twas the night the magical nightWhen the world held its breath under silver moonlightThe snow fell soft the stars shone brightOh ‘twas the night the Christmas night
And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sightHappy Christmas to all and to all a good night
 

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas (Newton)
 
Twas the night before Christmas all through the houseNot a creature was stirring not even a mouse
The stockings were hung by the chimney with careIn hopes that St Nicholas soon would be thereThe children were dreaming so snug in their bedsWhile visions of sugar plums danced in their heads
Oh twas the night the magical nightWhen the world held its breath under silver moonlightThe snow fell soft the stars shone brightOh twas the night the Christmas night
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatterI sprang from my bed to see what was the matterAway to the window I flew like a flashThrew open the shutters and lifted the sash
Oh the moon on the snow it shimmered so clearAnd then I saw him the man of the year
With a sleigh full of toys and eight tiny deerAnd a jolly old driver who brought Christmas cheerNow Dasher now Dancer now Prancer and VixenOn Comet on Cupid
Down the chimney he came his fur trimmed with sootA sack full of treasures from head to his footHis eyes how they twinkled his dimples so merryHis cheeks red as roses his nose like a cherry
And he laughed with a belly that shook like jellyA right jolly elf so warm and friendly
He didn’t speak a word but went straight to his workFilled all the stockings then turned with a jerkHe laid a finger aside of his noseAnd up the chimney with a nod he rose
And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sightHappy Christmas to all and to all a good night
And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sightHappy Christmas to all and to all a good night

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas (Adapted into Song Lyrics) (Nik Bear)
 
’Twas the night before Christmas all through the houseNot a creature was stirring not even a mouse
The stockings were hung by the chimney with careIn hopes that St Nicholas soon would be thereThe children were dreaming so snug in their bedsWhile visions of sugar plums danced in their heads
Oh ‘twas the night the magical nightWhen the world held its breath under silver moonlightThe snow fell soft the stars shone brightOh ‘twas the night the Christmas night
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatterI sprang from my bed to see what was the matterAway to the window I flew like a flashThrew open the shutters and lifted the sash
Oh the moon on the snow it shimmered so clearAnd then I saw him the man of the year
With a sleigh full of toys and eight tiny deerAnd a jolly old driver who brought Christmas cheerNow Dasher now Dancer now Prancer and VixenOn Comet on Cupid on Donner and Blitzen
Oh ‘twas the night the magical nightWhen the world held its breath under silver moonlightThe snow fell soft the stars shone brightOh ‘twas the night the Christmas night
Down the chimney he came his fur trimmed with sootA sack full of treasures from head to his footHis eyes how they twinkled his dimples so merryHis cheeks red as roses his nose like a cherry
And he laughed with a belly that shook like jellyA right jolly elf so warm and friendly
He didn’t speak a word but went straight to his workFilled all the stockings then turned with a jerkHe laid a finger aside of his noseAnd up the chimney with a nod he rose
Oh ‘twas the night the magical nightWhen the world held its breath under silver moonlightThe snow fell soft the stars shone brightOh ‘twas the night the Christmas night
And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sightHappy Christmas to all and to all a good night
Oh ‘twas the night the magical nightWhen the world held its breath under silver moonlightThe snow fell soft the stars shone brightOh ‘twas the night the Christmas night
And I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sightHappy Christmas to all and to all a good night

The Price of Eggs (Liam)
 
Liam Bear Brownhttps://music.apple.com/us/artist/liam-bear-brown/1780970474
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https://liam.musinique.com
 

This Train Is Bound for Glory  - Studio Sessions (Bear)
This Train Is Bound for Glory is one of the most powerful spirituals in the public domain — a rolling anthem of faith, justice, and the journey toward salvation.
Rooted in the oral tradition of Black spirituals, this song emerged in the early 20th century, carried by church voices, railroad workers, and freedom singers. With a no-nonsense moral clarity, it lays out who gets to ride the train — not kings or liars, but the humble and righteous.
We’ve restructured this timeless classic with acoustic gospel soul and community harmonies — built for clapping hands, stomping feet, and raw baritone voices. No crowns needed. Just a steady heart and a soul ready to ride.
🎙️ This version uses only public domain lyrics — free to perform, record, and remix. Let the people sing.
Public Domain Lyrics:
This train is bound for gloryThis trainThis train is bound for gloryThis trainThis train is bound for gloryDon't ride nothin’ but the righteous and the holyThis train is bound for gloryThis train
This train don't carry no gamblersThis trainThis train don't carry no gamblersThis trainThis train don't carry no gamblersLiars thieves or midnight ramblersThis train is bound for gloryThis train
This train don’t carry no liarsThis trainThis train don’t carry no liarsThis trainThis train don’t carry no liarsBackbiters or two-faced buyersThis train is bound for gloryThis train
This train is built for the humbleThis trainThis train is built for the humbleThis trainThis train is built for the humbleNot the proud who live in fumbleThis train is bound for gloryThis train
You don’t need a crownOr a seat in high placesJust a heart that’s steadyAnd feet that know the rhythm of grace
This train is bound for gloryThis trainThis train is bound for gloryThis trainThis train is bound for gloryRide it clean ride it surelyThis train is bound for gloryThis train
This train is bound for gloryThis train
#ThisTrainIsBoundForGlory #PublicDomainSong #GospelMusic #Spirituals #BlackSpirituals #FreedomSongs #FolkGospel #ProtestMusic #TrainSongs #SoulfulFolk #AcousticGospel #GospelRoots #RighteousJourney #LetMyPeopleGo #JusticeThroughMusic #TradSongs #GospelBlues #OldTimeReligion #NoKingsButTheLord #PeopleGetReady #MusicOfThePeople #SingingTruth #BaritoneGospel #HarmonicaSoul #ClapAndStomp #GospelChoir #FreedomTrain #SacredSound #RootsRevival #FolkSpiritual
 
Nik Bear Brownhttps://open.spotify.com/artist/0hSpFCJodAYMP2cWK72zI6?si=9Fx2UusBQHi3tTyVEAoCDQhttps://music.apple.com/us/artist/nik-bear-brown/1779725275https://nikbear.musinique.com
 
 
 

This Train Is Bound for Glory  - Studio Sessions (Prarthana)
This Train Is Bound for Glory is one of the most powerful spirituals in the public domain — a rolling anthem of faith, justice, and the journey toward salvation.
Rooted in the oral tradition of Black spirituals, this song emerged in the early 20th century, carried by church voices, railroad workers, and freedom singers. With a no-nonsense moral clarity, it lays out who gets to ride the train — not kings or liars, but the humble and righteous.
We’ve restructured this timeless classic with acoustic gospel soul and community harmonies — built for clapping hands, stomping feet, and raw baritone voices. No crowns needed. Just a steady heart and a soul ready to ride.
🎙️ This version uses only public domain lyrics — free to perform, record, and remix. Let the people sing.
Public Domain Lyrics:
This train is bound for gloryThis trainThis train is bound for gloryThis trainThis train is bound for gloryDon't ride nothin’ but the righteous and the holyThis train is bound for gloryThis train
This train don't carry no gamblersThis trainThis train don't carry no gamblersThis trainThis train don't carry no gamblersLiars thieves or midnight ramblersThis train is bound for gloryThis train
This train don’t carry no liarsThis trainThis train don’t carry no liarsThis trainThis train don’t carry no liarsBackbiters or two-faced buyersThis train is bound for gloryThis train
This train is built for the humbleThis trainThis train is built for the humbleThis trainThis train is built for the humbleNot the proud who live in fumbleThis train is bound for gloryThis train
You don’t need a crownOr a seat in high placesJust a heart that’s steadyAnd feet that know the rhythm of grace
This train is bound for gloryThis trainThis train is bound for gloryThis trainThis train is bound for gloryRide it clean ride it surelyThis train is bound for gloryThis train
This train is bound for gloryThis train
#ThisTrainIsBoundForGlory #PublicDomainSong #GospelMusic #Spirituals #BlackSpirituals #FreedomSongs #FolkGospel #ProtestMusic #TrainSongs #SoulfulFolk #AcousticGospel #GospelRoots #RighteousJourney #LetMyPeopleGo #JusticeThroughMusic #TradSongs #GospelBlues #OldTimeReligion #NoKingsButTheLord #PeopleGetReady #MusicOfThePeople #SingingTruth #BaritoneGospel #HarmonicaSoul #ClapAndStomp #GospelChoir #FreedomTrain #SacredSound #RootsRevival #FolkSpiritual
 
Prarthana Maha Brownhttps://music.apple.com/us/artist/prarthana-maha-brown/1840725199https://open.spotify.com/artist/1sPHt959TSCSgctMB5Xdop?si=yxPbrdEiReaofLd_N_kjAghttps://prarthana.musinique.com