The Three Ravens. The City Waites is a British early music ensemble. Formed in the early 1970s, they specialise in English music of the 16th and 17th centuries from the street, tavern, theatre and countryside — the music of ordinary people. They endeavour to appeal to a wide general audience as well as to scholars. They have toured the UK, much of Europe, the Middle East, the Far East and the USA, performing everywhere from major concert halls and universities to village squares. Collaborations include the National Theatre, the Royal Shakespeare Company and Shakespeare's Globe. They can be heard on several movie and TV soundtracks; they broadcast frequently and have made more than 30 CDs. קישור לאתר הלהקה בויקיפדיה https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_City_Waites חברי הלהקה Lucie Skeaping Douglas Wootton Roddy Skeaping Michael Brain חברי להקה נוספים Joe Skeaping - violin Keith Thompson - woodwind Barbara Grant - soprano, violin Nicholas Hayley - bass viol Robin Jeffrey - lute Richard Wistreich - baritone Graham Wells - woodwinds תקליטי הלהקה The English Stage Jig (Hyperion) - released March 9[when?] The English Tradition (ARC) Low and Lusty Ballads (Regis) Penny Merriments (Naxos) Bawdy Ballads of Old England (Regis, 1995) formerly the Mufitians of Grope Lane (Musica Oscura) Christmas Now is Drawing Near (Saydisc) CD-SDL 371 How the World Wags (Hyperion, 1981) A 66008[1] Pills to Purge Melancholy (Saydisc, 1990) CD-SDL 382 The Music of the Tudor Age Music of the Middle Ages Music of the Stuart Age Music from the Time of Henry VIII Music from the Time of Charles II A Madrigal for All Seasons אתר הויקיפדיה לשיר שלושה עורבים https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Three_Ravens המילים There were three rauens sat on a tree, downe a downe, hay downe, hay downe, There were three rauens sat on a tree, with a downe, There were three rauens sat on a tree, They were as blacke as they might be. With a downe, derrie, derrie, derrie, downe, downe. The one of them said to his mate, Where shall we our breakfast take? Downe in yonder greene field, There lies a Knight slain under his shield, His hounds they lie downe at his feete, So well they can their Master keepe, His Hawkes they flie so eagerly, There's no fowle dare him come nie] Downe there comes a fallow Doe, As great with yong as she might goe, She lift up his bloudy head, And kist his wounds that were so red, She got him up upon her backe, And carried him to earthen lake, She buried him before the prime, She was dead her self ere euen-song time. God send euery gentleman, Such haukes, such hounds, and such a Leman