Европейская музыка

Corri regazzo vai e non fermarti mai
La notte scendera’ il freddo arrivera’
Ma non pensare che tutto sia contro te
C’e’ I’amore sole giallo sorridera’

Даўным-даўно тое было
Кругом зямлі мора лягло
А ў моры тым жыў люты Цмок
Штодня збіраў з людзей аброк

O my deare hert, young Jesu sweit,
Prepare thy creddil in my spreit
And I sall rock thee in my hert,
And never mair from thee depert.

When Joseph was an old man, an old man was he,
He courted Virgin Mary, the Queen of Galilee.
When Joseph and Mary were walking one day,
Here is apples and cherries so fair to behold.

All day we fought the tides between the North
Head and the South,
All day we hauled the frozen sheets to scape the
storm’s wet mouth,

In the snow there
Stands a hurdy gurdy man,
With his frozen fingers
Plays as best he can.

The Angel Gabriel from heaven came
His wings as drifted snow, his eyes as flame
«All hail» said he thou lowly Maiden Mary
Most highly favoured lady Gloria, Glor…

What power art thou who from below
Hast made me unwillingly and slow
From beds of everlasting snow?
See’st thou not how stiff, how stiff and wondrous old,

Now Winter comes Slowly, Pale, Meager and Old
First trembling with Age, and then quiv’ring with Cold;
Benumb’d with hard Frosts, and with Snow cover’d o’er,
Prays the Sun to Restore him, and Sings as before.

Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming
Lo, how a rose e’er blooming
From tender stem hath sprung,
Of Jesse’s lineage coming,

Hush child
Let your mommy sleep in to the night until we rise
Hush child
Let me soothe the shining tears that gather in your eyes

A soul cake, a soul cake,
Please, good missus, a soul cake,
An apple, a pear, a plum or a cherry,
Any good thing to make us all merry.

As I in hoary winter’s night stood shivering in the snow,
Surprised I was with sudden heat which made my heart to glow ;
And lifting up a fearful eye to view what fire was near,
A pretty babe all burning bright did in the air appear ;

Oh, the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing,
And the corn it ripens fastest when the frost is settling in,
And when a woman tells me my face she’ll soon forget,
Before we’ll part, I’ll wage a croon, she’s fain to follow’t yet.

Always this winter child,
December’s sun sits low against the sky
Cold light on frozen fields,
The cattle in their stable lowing.

From the streets of old Victoria to fair old Mabou town
From Portage to Spadina listen closely for the sound
A voice still echoes softly ‘cross the rivers and the plains
So don’t you dare stop listening and don’t forget his name

Lift him up and carry him along
Fire Marengo, fire away
Put him down where he belongs
Fire Marengo, fire away

From France we get the Brandy
From Martinique the rum
Sweet red Cabernet
From Italy does come

I’m off to see me darlin’ Jen
She’s hanging around the slip again
With your blue eyes
Sparkling deep sea blue eyes

Westward from the Davis Strait
‘Tis there ’twas said to lie
The sea route to the Orient
For which so many died

‘Twas a cold an’ dreary mornin’ in December, (December)
Well all of me money it was spent (spent spent)
Where it went to Lord I barely can’t remember (remember)
So down to the shippin’ office went, (went went)

Pour retrouver ma douce amie!
Oh, mes bouées ouh là ouh lala
Pour retrouver ma douce amie!
Oh, mes bouées ouh là ouh lala

Это было в конце 65-го года на олд-Уоллсенд-Ярд
Ей было поручено перевозить черную смолу
Построил «Нортумбрию» там, на барной стойке
Ролл, Нортумбрия, Ролл

Oh come let’s join Rosibella
Come let’s join Rosibella
Come let’s join
Come let’s join

O, around Cape Horn we are bound to go
To me roo-dah, roo-dah
Around Cape Horn through the sleet and snow
To me roo-dah, roo-dah, day

Well I’m going for to leave you
Shallow, oh, shallow brown
Yes, I’m going for to leave you
Shallow, oh, shallow brown

Oh Shiloh, here’s mud in your eye
We’re hauling away from Shiloh town
Get one long look fore You say your goodbyes
We’re hauling away from Shiloh

While on this ship, my days are spent
In anxious care, oft discontent
No social circles here are found
Few friends of mirth all here abound

Oh the pilot he looks out ahead
With the hands on the cane heavin of the lead
And the old man roars to wake the dead
A-come and get your oats my son