My Love Has Listed (or the White Cockade)
Anonymous
| La ballata è fatta risalire alla metà del 1700, mentre le prime v... | |
| MY LOVE HAS LISTED (OR THE WHITE COCKADE) | MY LOVE HAS LISTED (OR THE WHITE COCKADE) |
| 'Tis true, my love's enlisted and he wears a white cockade. He is a handsome young lad likewise a roving blade. He is a handsome young lad, just right to serve a king. Oh my very heart is breaking all for the loss of him. | One day as I was walking all o’er yon fields of moss I had not thoughts of enlisting, ‘till some soldiers did me cross They kindly did invite me to a flowing ball(1) and down They advanced, they advanced me some money A shilling from the crown |
| As I roved out one morning, as I wandered over yon moors I had no thoughts of 'listing till a soldier did me cross. He kindly did invite me to take a flowing bowl. He advanced me the money two guineas and a crown. | My true love, he is listed and he wears a white cockade He is a handsome young man, likewise a roving blade He is a handsome young man, he’s gone to serve the King Oh, my very, oh, my very Heart is aching all for the love of him |
| My love is tall and handsome and comely for to see but by a sad misfortune a soldier now is he. May the man that first enlisted him not prosper night and day! How I wish that he may perish all in the foaming spray! | My true love, he is handsome and comely for to see And by a sad misfortune a soldier now is he I wish the man that’s listed him might prosper night nor day And I wish that, and I wish that The hollanders(3) might sink him in the sea |
| And may he never prosper and may he never thrive on that he puts his hands to as long as he's alive! May the very ground he treads upon the grass refuse to bloom Since he'as been my, only cause of my sorrow grief and gloom! | Then he took out of his hankerchief to wipe my flowing eye Leave off your lamentation, likewise your mournful sighs Leave off you grief and sorrow, until I march o’er yon plain We’ll be married, we’ll be married In the springtime, when I return again |
| She's then pulled out her handkerchief to wipe her flowing tears. “Wipe up, wipe up them mournful tears, likewise them mournful sighs! And be you of good courage till I return again! You and I love, you and I love, you and I love, you and I love Will be married when I return again!” | My true love, he is handsome and it’s all for him I’ll rove I’ll write his name on every tree that grows in yonder grove My poor heart it does hallow, how my poor heart it does cry To remind me, to remind me Of my ploughboy, until the day I die |
1) sta per bowl
2) truppe governative
3) vedi http://ontanomagico.altervista.org/low-lands.htm