The Kerry Recruit (One Morning In March)
The Dubliners| Original | Recorded by Richards Dyer-Bennett (con un'ultima strofao aggiunta... |
| THE KERRY RECRUIT (ONE MORNING IN MARCH) One morning in March I was digging the land, with me brogues on me feet and me spade in me hand And says I to myself, such a pity to see, such a fine strappin' lad footin' turf round Tralee Wid me too ra na nya and me too ra na nya, wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya So I buttered me brogues, shook hands with me spade, then went off to the fair like a dashing young blade When up comes a sergeant he asks me to list, 'Arra, sergeant a gra, stick a bob in me fist Wid me too ra na nya and me too ra na nya, wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya Well the first thing they gave me it was a red coat, with a wide strap of leather to tie round me throat They gave me a quare thing I asked what was that, and they told me it was a cockade for me hat Wid me too ra na nya and me too ra na nya, wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya The next thing they gave me they called it a gun, with powder and shot and a place for me thumb Well first she spat fire and then she spat smoke, she gave a great leap and me shoulder near broke Wid me too ra na nya and me too ra na nya, wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya Well the first place they sent me was down by the quay, on board of a warship bound for the Crimea Three sticks in the middle all rowled round with sheets, faith, she walked on the water without any feet Wid me too ra na nya and me too ra na nya, wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya When at Balaclava we landed quite soon, both cold, wet and hungry we lay on the ground Next morning for action the bugle did call, and we had a hot breakfast of powder and ball Wid me too ra na nya and me too ra na nya, wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya Well we fought at the Alma, likewise Inkermann, and the Russians they whaled us at the Redan In scalin' the walls there meself lost an eye, and a big Russian bullet ran away with me thigh Wid me too ra na nya and me too ra na nya, wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya 'Twas there we lay bleeding stretched on the cold ground, both heads, legs and arms were all scattered around I thought of me mam and me cleaveens were nigh, sure they'd bury me decent and raise a loud cry Wid me too ra na nya and me too ra na nya, wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya Well a doctor was called and he soon staunched me blood, and he gave me a fine elegant leg made of wood They gave me a medal and ten pence a day, contented with Sheelagh, I'll live on half pay Wid me too ra na nya and me too ra na nya, wid me too ra na noo ra na noo ra na nya | THE KERRY RECRUIT (ONE MORNING IN MARCH) At the age of nineteen, I was ploughin' the land With me brogues on me feet and me spade in me hand. Says I to meself, "What a pity to see Such a fine Kerry lad diggin' spuds in Tralee." cho: To me Kerry-I-Ah, fa lal deral lay, Kerry-I-Ah, fa lal deral lay. So I buttered me brogues and shook hands with me spade And went off to the fair like a dashing young blade. A sergeant come up and said "Would ye enlist?" "Sure, sergeant," says I, "Slip the bob in me fist". Then up came a captain, a man of great fame, Who straightways enquires me country and name; Well, I told him before as I'd tell him again That me father and mother were two Kerrymen. Well the first thing they gave me it was a red coat With a lump of black leather to tie 'round me throat. The next thing they gave me --- I said "What is that?" "Sure, man, a cockade for to stick in yer hat!" The next thing they gave me they called it a horse With a saddle and bridle, me two legs across. Well, I gave 'er the whip and I gave 'er the steel And, Oh Holy Mother! She went like an eel. The next thing they gave me, they called it a gun, So under the trigger I settled me thumb. The gun it belched fire, and vomited smoke And gave me poor shoulder the Divil's own stroke. The next place they took us was down to the sea, Aboard a great ship, bound for the Crimee, With three sticks in the middle, all covered with sheet She walked on the water without any feet. We reached Balaclava all safe and all sound, And tired and weary we lay on the ground. Next morning at daybreak a bugle did call, And served us a breakfast of powder and ball. We whipped them at Alma and at Inkerman But the Rooshians they foiled us at the Redan. While scaling a rampart meself lost an eye And a great Russian bullet ran away with me thigh. All dyin' and bleedin' I lay on the ground, With me arms, legs and feet all scattered around. Says I to meself, "If me father was nigh He would bury me, sure, just for fear I might die." But a surgeon come up and he soon stops the blood, And he made me an iligant leg made of wood; And they made me a pension of tenpence a day And contented on shiela I live on half-pay. (Last verse by Richard Dyer-Bennett) Now that was the story my grandfather told, As he sat by the fire all withered and old. "Remember," said he,"that the Irish fight well, But the Russian artillery's hotter than Hell." |
