- Leslie Hudson
Death comes when he's called
Those moments when frustration drives you to call out to the ether, thinking nobody's going to hear you? In folklore, someone's usually listening.

Calling out supernaturals. 9/30
Today's story is a tiny one. It comes from a collection of Romani stories gathered from storytellers in Europe, Asia, and North America. The author, Diane Tong, photographed many people in the communities she visited, and her book is dedicated to several friends within the culture and of Romani descent.*
Our storyteller gives us in 171 words a full picture an old woman's worn out life:
Every morning she rises with the sun and walks her tired old bones all the way to the forest. On her back she carries a bundle filled with the sticks she collects from the forest floor. Every day the same routine with no one to help her and her years are weighing heavily on her.
One day she decides she's had enough of this and calls out to Death to come rescue her from this monotony. Immediately he arrives, asking smooth as silk what he can do to help her. The old woman thinks better of her request and recovering quickly asks that he help her back on with her bundle. Suddenly her burden feels lighter now that Death is close by!
Lesson learned: Death has ears everywhere so be careful what you ask him for.
In the words of the storyteller themselves, "We only want to die when death is far away from us." (p 114)
*That said, it was published in 1989 and the author uses the word "Gypsy" throughout. I do not feel comfortable using it as I have read that many Romani consider the word to be a slur so I use it only in context and as part of the following bibliography.
"Death and the Old Gypsy Woman" from Gypsy Folktales by Diane Tong (NY: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1989), p. 114.
From Tong's notes: This short tale of a wise old woman appears in a volume on Romani published in Germany in 1886.
Burden (the lyrics)
These bones are tired of walking
These legs are getting old
My back's been breaking as the sun goes down
Gonna let this burden go
This morning I woke when the sun came to call
And I shut my eyes, 'said, "no, sun! no, sun!"
I don't want to go to the forest again
Gathering sticks in my bundle
There's nobody here who will carry the load
And I grind my teeth, 'said, "no one, no one"
So I got to go to the forest again
Gathering sticks in my bundle
These bones are tired of walking
These legs are getting old
My back's been breaking as the sun goes down
Gonna let this burden go
No cloud in the sky as the sun beats me down
And I mop my brow, 'said, "no, sun! no, sun!"
'Cause I have to go to the forest again
Gathering sticks in my bundle
The forest is wild; there are sticks on the ground
And I fill me arms, 'said, "no fun, no fun"
Now I got to go through the forest again
Carrying sticks in my bundle
These bones are tired of walking
These legs are getting old
My back's been breaking as the sun goes down
Gonna let this burden go
I'm stumbling home with my bag on my back
And I sit right down, 'said, "no, sun! no, sun!"
I don't want to live in this body no more
I'm calling on Death to release me!
The end of my days has finally come
And I don't got much, 'said, "no son, no son"
So where are you, Death? Are you coming for me?
I'm calling on you to release me
These bones are tired of walking
These legs are getting old
My back's been breaking as the sun goes down
Gonna let this burden go
So Death said, "what do you want, old woman?
Why do you call my name?
What can I do for you, woman?
You've been living so long it's a shame"
And she said, hand me that bag, help me put it back on
I'll be on my way, 'said, "go, son! go, son!"
I don't want to die now you're right next to me
I'll carry my sticks in my bundle
These bones are tired of walking
These legs are getting old
My back's been breaking but I ain't dead yet
Gonna bring my burden home
Gonna bring these old bones home
Gonna bring my burden home
"Burden" will appear on The Wanderlings Volume Four, a collection of summer-themed and summer-written songs inspired by women in folklore.
