Mrs. McGrath
anonyme
Originale | Questa è quasi certamente una versione americana di Mrs. McGrath. Testo tr... |
MRS. MCGRATH “Mrs.McGrath,” the sargeant said, “Would you like to make a soldier Out of your son, Ted? With a scarlet cloak and a fine cocked hat, Mrs. McGraw wouldn’t you like that?” Mrs.McGrath lived on the seashore For the space of seven long years or more ‘Till she saw big ship sailing in the bay “Hallelu, babbelu, I think it’s he!” “Oh, Captain dear, where have you been. Have you been out sailin’ on the Mediteren’. Have you any tidings of my son Ted. Is the poor boy livin’ or is he dead?” Now up comes Ted without any legs And in their place there were two wooden pegs She kissed him a dozen times or two Saying “Holly molly could it be you?” “Now was you drunk or was you blind When you left your two fine legs behind? Or was it out walking upon the sea That tore your legs from the knees away?” “No I wasn’t drunk and I wasn’t blind When I left my two fine legs behind. For a cannon ball on the fifth of May Took my two fine legs from the knees away.” “Now Teddy me boy,” the old widow cried “Your two fine legs was your mama’s pride Them stumps of a tree won’t do at all Why didn’t you run from the big cannon ball?” “Now against all war, I do profrain Between Don Juan and the King of Spain And, by herrons, I’ll make ‘em rue the time When they swept the legs from a child of mine.” | FELIX THE SOLDIER They took away my brogues and they robbed me of my spade They put me in the army and a soldier of me made But I couldn't beat a drum and I couldn't play a flute So they handed me a musket and they taught me how to shoot. But the Injuns they were sly, And the Frenchies they were coy, So they shot off the left leg Of this poor Irish boy. We had a bloody fight After we had scaled the wall, And the divil a bit of mercy Did the Frenchies show at all. Then they put me on a ship, And they sent me home again, With all my army training, After battle's strife and din. They headed for the Downs, And we landed at the quay, My mother came to meet me, And these words to me did say, "O Felix, are you drunk, Or Felix are you mad? And whatever has become Of the two legs you had!" I will bid my spade adieu, For I cannot dig the bog, But I still can play the fiddle, And I still can drink my grog. I have learned to smoke a pipe And I've learned to fire a gun, To the divil with the fighting, I am glad the war is done. |