Джонни, тебя не узнать

[morreth]

(Ирландская песенка)

В Этай слепого трость вела, ар-ро, хар-ро,
В Этай слепого трость вела, ар-ро, хар-ро,
В Этай слепого трость вела, а Пегги у ворот ждала,
Увидела – и обмерла: «Тебя не узнать, мой милый»!
«Барабанный бой с ружейной пальбой, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Барабанный бой с ружейной пальбой, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Тебя, мой Джонни, мой родной, почти что свели в могилу.
Ах, что они сделали с тобой – тебя не узнать, мой милый!

Джонни, где глаза твои, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Джонни, где глаза твои, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Джонни, где глаза твои, что так сияли от любви?
Теперь мне плакать за двоих - тебя не узнать, мой милый!

Джонни, где твоя нога, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Джонни, где твоя нога, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Джонни, где твоя нога? Ах, как ты весело шагал,
Когда ушел громить врага - тебя не узнать, мой милый!

«Барабанный бой с ружейной пальбой, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Барабанный бой с ружейной пальбой, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Тебя, мой Джонни, мой родной, почти что свели в могилу.
Ах, что они сделали с тобой – тебя не узнать, мой милый!

Джонни, где твоя рука, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Джонни, где твоя рука, ар-ро, хар-ро,
На моем плече была легка, а снаряд не оставил и пенька –
До чего ж судьба твоя горька - тебя не узнать, мой милый!

Но, слава Богу, ты живой, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Слава Богу, ты живой, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Слава Богу, ты живой, ты мне всех дороже, милый мой,
Пойдем же скорей ко мне домой - тебя не узнать, мой милый!

«Барабанный бой с ружейной пальбой, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Барабанный бой с ружейной пальбой, ар-ро, хар-ро,
Тебя, мой Джонни, мой родной, почти что свели в могилу.
Ах, что они сделали с тобой – тебя не узнать, мой милый!

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[shoshana-flor.livejournal.com]

FATHER MURPHY

Come all you warriors and renowned nobles
Who once commanded brave warlike bands
Lay down your plumes and your golden trophies
Give up your arms with a trembling hand
Since Father Murphy, of the county Wexford,
Lately aroused from his sleepy dream,
To cut down cruel Saxon persecution
And wash it away in a crimson stream.

Sure Julius Caesar nor Alexander
Nor brave King Arthur ever equalled him
For armies formidable he did oppose them,
Though with two pikemen he did begin.
The Camolin cavalry he did unhorse them,
Their first lieutenant he cut him down,
With broken ranks, and with shattered columns,
They soon returned to Camolin town,

On the hill of Oulart he displayed his valour,
Where a hundred Corkmen lay on the plain
And at Enniscorthy his sword he wielded
And I hope to see him once more again,
The loyal townsmen gave their assistance
"We'll die or conquer", they all did say,
The yeomen cavalry made no resistance,
For on the pavement their bodies lay,

When Enniscorthy became subject unto us,
'Twas next to Wexford we marched our men,
And on the Three Rock we took up our quarters,
Waiting for daylight the town to win.
With drums a-beating the town did echo,
And acclamations came from door to door;
On the Windmill Hill we pitched our tents,
And we drank like heroes, but paid no score.

On Carraig Rua for some time we waited,
And next to Gorey we did repair,
At Tubberneering we thought no harm,
The bloody army, it was waiting there,
The issue of it was a close engagement,
While on the soldiers we played warlike pranks;
Through sheepwalks, hedgerows and shady thickets,
There were mangled bodies and broken ranks,

The shuddering cavalry I can't forget them;
We raised the brushes on their helmets straight -
They turned about, and they bade for Dublin,
As if they ran for a ten-pound plate.
Well, some crossed Donnybrook and more through Blackrock
And some up Shankill without wound or flaw
And if Barry Lawless be not a liar
There's more went grousing up Luggelaw.

With flying colours we marched on to Limerick,
And to Kilcavan we did repair;
'Twas on Mount-pleasant we called the county,
And pointed cannon at the army there.
When we thought fit we marched on to Gorey;
The next was Arklow we did surround.
The night being coming, we regretted sorely,
Tho' one hundred soldiers lay on the ground.

The towns of England were left quite naked
Of all its armies, both foot and horse
The Highlands of Scotland were left unguarded
Likewise the Hessians the seas they crossed.
To the Windmill Hill of Enniscorthy,
The British Fencibles they fled like deer;
But our ranks were tattered, and sorely scattered,
By the loss of Kyan and his Shelmaliers.

But if the Frenchmen had reinforced us,
And landed transports in Bagenbun,
Father John Murphy would be their seconder,
And sixteen thousand with him would come.
Success attend you, sweet County Wexford
Threw off the yoke and to battle run;
Let them not think we gave up our arms
For every man has a pike and gun.