Frankosyran Girl I’ve a swelling in my heart, A flaming burst of heat, It seems like you’ve bewitched me, Frankosyran girl, my sweet. I’ll come down to the shore So that we two can meet And I’d like enough and more Of hugs and kisses sweet. To Finika, Parakopi, I’ll take you all round there Galissa and Della Grazia If it kills me I don’t care. To Pateli and Niochori As far as Alithini And at Piskopio romances My sweet Frangosyriani.Text 1 | Φραγκοσυριανή Μία φούντωση, μια φλόγα έχω μέσα στην καρδιά λες και μάγια μου `χεις κάνει Φραγκοσυριανή γλυκιά. Θα `ρθω να σε ανταμώσω κάτω στην ακρογιαλιά, θα ήθελα να με χορτάσεις όλο χάδια και φιλιά. Θα σε πάρω να γυρίσω Φοίνικα, Παρακοπή Γαλησσά και Nτελαγκράτσια και ας μου `ρθει συγκοπή. Στο Πατέλι, στο Nυχώρι φίνα στην Αληθινή και στο Πισκοπιό ρομάντζα γλυκιά μου Φραγκοσυριανή.xt 2 |
Although Markos and his fellow Catholics ie Frankosyrans might be addressed as ‘Frangos’ in the same derogatory way that an Irish navvy would be called ‘Mick’, he was proud of being, like most of the peasant class in Syros, an ‘original’ Frankosyran – or in other words, a ‘Frank’. This was a term loosely applied to Syrans who’d converted to Catholicism under the Venetians in the 13th century. To Markos’ mind this meant he was one of the ‘native’ Syrans - unlike the ‘Johnny-come- lately’ Orthodox down in the port of Ermoupoli who had arrived as refugees from the Turks in the early19th century and by the middle of that century had turned Ermoupoli into the most important port and hub of Greece. There was solidarity among Frankosyrans. They stuck together even in Piraeus, and if Markos saw a beautiful girl he lusted after at the back of a crowded café in Syros, why then, clearly she had to be a Frank. But the most important thing about this song is not so much the mystery girl as the magic of those place names in conjuring up a childhood idyll:
'In the summer people went back to their villages ... down to Kini, Della Grazia, Parakopi, or Finika. There was a place called Pateli too, which I put in that Frangosyriani song ... I used to play with the kids of all the other families. We ran about all over the place filching figs and cutting grapes on the sly.... I remember summer when I was a child. In front of the village the river Platis ran between us and the field. There was a threshing floor there. Oh boy, it was happy days at threshing time! The river came out of Piyi further on up and we used to go and play there, me, Petros and Dimitrios Delasoudhas, ... a whole bunch of kids from the neighbourhood of Skali. There were hollows in the rock where the water got deeper and we made little toy boats out of paper or tin. This little river back then always had water even in the summer.'
'In the summer people went back to their villages ... down to Kini, Della Grazia, Parakopi, or Finika. There was a place called Pateli too, which I put in that Frangosyriani song ... I used to play with the kids of all the other families. We ran about all over the place filching figs and cutting grapes on the sly.... I remember summer when I was a child. In front of the village the river Platis ran between us and the field. There was a threshing floor there. Oh boy, it was happy days at threshing time! The river came out of Piyi further on up and we used to go and play there, me, Petros and Dimitrios Delasoudhas, ... a whole bunch of kids from the neighbourhood of Skali. There were hollows in the rock where the water got deeper and we made little toy boats out of paper or tin. This little river back then always had water even in the summer.'