Ta-Ra-Ra Boom-De-Ay

Joe Hill
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OriginalTraduzione svedese / Swedish translation / Svensk översättning:...

I had a job once threshing wheat
Worked sixteen hours with hands and feet.
And when the moon was shining bright,
They kept me working all the night.
One moonlight night, I hate to tell,
I "accidentally" slipped and fell.
My pitchfork went right in between
Some cog wheels of that thresh-machine.

It made a noise that way.
And wheels and bolts and hay,
Went flying every way.
That stingy rube said, "Well!
A thousand gone to hell.
But I did sleep that night,
I needed it all right.

Next day that stingy rube did say,
"I'll bring my eggs to town today;
You grease my wagon up, you mutt,
And don't forget to screw the nut.
I greased his wagon all right,
But I plumb forgot to screw the nut,
And when he started on that trip,
The wheel slipped off and broke his hip.

It made a noise that way,
That rube was sure a sight,
And mad enough to fight;
His whiskers and his legs
Were full of scrambled eggs;
I told him, "That's too bad –
I'm feeling very sad"

And then that farmer said, "You turk!
I bet you are an "I Won't Work".
He paid me off right there, By Gum!
So I went home and told my chum.
Next day when threshing did commence,
My chum was Johnny on the fence;
And 'pon my word, that awkward kid,
He dropped his pitchfork, like I did.

It made a noise that way,
And part of that machine
Hit Reuben on the bean.
He cried, "Oh me, oh my;
I nearly lost my eye"
My partner said, "You're right –
It's bedtime now, good night"

But still that rube was pretty wise,
These things did open up his eyes.
He said, "There must be something wrong;
I think I work my men too long"
He cut the hours and raised the pay,
Gave ham and eggs for every day,
Now gets his men from union hall,
And has no "accidents" at all.

That rube is feeling gay;
He learned his lesson quick,
Just through a simple trick.
For fixing rotten jobs
And fixing greedy slobs,
This is the only way,

Jag plöjde åker natt och dag,
i sexton timmar jobba' jag.
Jag måste stå på mina ben
när både sol och måne sken.
Men så en afton blev jag trött,
så att jag började se rött.
Jag lyfte traktorns motorhuv
och tappade en liten skruv.

Ta-ra-ra bom ta-ra,
det var nog inte bra.
Då tog det skruv uti
ett stort maskineri.
Men jag fick vila sen
för arbetsgivaren.
Det kan han gärna ha.
Ta-ra-ra bom ta-ra.

Han sa till mej, jo du är snygg,
jag tror att du är arbetsskygg.
Du är visst nån slags bolsjevik,
så ta din löning här och stick.
Jag nämnde saken för en vän,
och tro det eller inte, men
på morron fick han motorstopp,
och skördetröskan den brann opp.

Ta-ra-ra bom ta-ra,
det var nog inte bra,
och arbetsgivarn han
stod breve när det brann.
Han sa o ve, o ve!
Det går åt helvete!
Men då min kompis sa:
Ta-ra-ra bom ta-ra.

Vår boss var ändå inte dum,
och ett och annat fick han hum,
och sa: »Det måste vara fel,
att ni skall slita er ihjäl.«
Nu räknas övertiden här,
och vi får varmrätt och dessert,
och vi har avtal och procent,
och inga olyckor har hänt.

Ta-ra-ra bom ta-ra,
nu mår vi alla bra.
Nu har vi honom i
vår blandekonomi.
Och snart så blir väl han
vår nästa ombudsman.
Vi kan en slipsten dra.
Ta-ra-ra bom ta-ra.

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