Der große Träller und Lyric Thread

[Karsten]

1. Bolle reist' sich jüngst zu Pfingsten,
Nach Pankow war sein Ziel
Da verlor er seinen Jüngsten
Janz plötzlich im Jewühl
'ne volle halbe Stunde
Hat er nach ihm jespürt
|: Aber dennoch hat sich Bolle
Janz köstlich amüsiert :|

2. In Pankow gabs kein Essen,
In Pankow gabs kein Bier
War alles aufjefressen
Von fremden Gästen hier.
Nich mal 'ne Butterstulle
Hat man ihm reserviert!
|: Aber dennoch hat sich Bolle
Janz köstlich amüsiert :|

3. Auf der Schöneholzer Heide,
Da gabs 'ne Keilerei
Und Bolle, gar nicht feige,
War feste mang dabei
Hat's Messer rausgezogen
Und fünfe massakriert
|: Aber dennoch hat sich Bolle
Janz köstlich amüsiert :|

4. Es fing schon an zu tagen,
Als er sein Heim erblickt.
Das Hemd war ohne Kragen,
Das Nasenbein zerknickt
das rechte Auge fehlte,
Das linke marmoriert
|: Aber dennoch hat sich Bolle
Janz köstlich amüsiert :|

5. Als er nach Haus gekommen,
Da ging's ihm aber schlecht
Da hat ihn seine Olle janz
Mörderisch verdrescht!
Ne volle halbe Stunde
Hat sie auf ihm poliert
|: Aber dennoch hat sich Bolle
Janz köstlich amüsiert :|

Unser Bolle wollte sterben
Und hat sich's überlegt:
Er hat sich auf die Schienen
Der Kleinbahn draufgelegt
Die Kleinbahn hat Verspätung
Und vierzehn Tage drauf
|: Da fand man unsern Bolle
Als Dürrgemüse auf :|​

 

[monochrom]

O Flower of Scotland,
When will we see your like again
That fought and died for
Your wee bit hill and glen.
And stood against him,
Proud Edward's army,
And sent him homeward
Tae think again.


The hills are bare now,
And autumn leaves lie thick and still
O'er land that is lost now,
Which those so dearly held
That stood against him,
Proud Edward's army
And sent him homeward
Tae think again.


Those days are past now
And in the past they must remain
But we can still rise now
And be the nation again!
That stood against him
Proud Edward's army
And sent him homeward
Tae think again.


O Flower of Scotland,
When will we see your like again
That fought and died for
Your wee bit hill and glen.
And stood against him,
Proud Edward's army,
And sent him homeward
Tae think again.

 

[Karsten]

Okay, auf nach Schottland...

1. By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond.
Where me and my true love were ever wont to gae
On the bonnie, bonnie banks O' Loch Lomond.

Refrain:
O ye'll tak' the high road and I'll tak' the low road,
An' I'll be in Scotland afore ye;
But me and my true love will never meet again
On the bonnie, bonnie banks O' Loch Lomond.

2. 'Twas there that we parted in yon shady glen,
On the steep, steep side O' Ben Lomon',
Where in purple hue the Hieland hills we view,
An' the moon comin' out in the gloamin'
Refrain:

3. The wee birdies sing and the wild flow'rs spring,
And in sunshine the waters are sleepin';
But the broken heart it kens nae second spring,
Tho' the waefu' may cease frae their greetin'.​

 

[monochrom]

I just got in frae the Isle of Skye
I'm not very big and I'm awfully shy
The ladies shout as I go by
"Donald where's your trousers?"

Chorus
Let the winds blow high,
Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go
And all the ladies say "Hello
Donald where's your trousers?"

2. A lady took me to a ball
And it was slippery in the hall
I was afraid that I might fall
'Cause I had nae on me trousers!
Chorus

3. They'd like to wed me everyone
Just let them catch me if they can
You canna put the breeks on a highland man
Who doesn't like wearing trousers.
Chorus

4. To wear the kilt is my delight,
It isn't wrong, I know it's right.
The highlanders would get afright
If they saw me in trousers.
Chorus

5. Well I caught a cold and me nose was raw
I had no handkerchief at all
So I hiked up my kilt and I gave it a blow,
Now you can't do that with trousers.
Chorus

 

[Karsten]

As I came in by Auchindoun,
A little wee bit frae the town,
When to the Highlands I was bound
To view the Haughs of Cromdale.
I met a man in tartan trews,
I spiered at him what was the news,
Quo' he, "The Highland army rues
That e'er we came to Cromdale.

"We were in bed, sir, every man,
When the English host upon us came;
A bloody battle then began
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale.
The English horse they were so rude,
They bathed their hoofs in Highland blood,
But our brave clans, they boldly stood
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale.

"But, alas! We could no longer stay,
For o'er the hilfs we came away,
And sore we do lament the day
That e"er we came to Cromdale."
Thus the great Montrose did say:
"Can you direct the nearest way?
For I will o'er the hills this day,
And view the Haughs of Cromdale."

"Alas, niy lord, you're not so strong,
You scarcely have two thousand men,
And there's twenty-thousand on the plane,
Stand rank and file on Cromdale."
Thus the great Montrose did say,
"I say, direct the nearest way,
For I will o'er the hills this day,
And see the Haughs of Cromdale.

They were at dinner, every man,
When the great Montrose upon them came;
A second battle then began
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale.
The Grant, Mackenzie and M'Ky,
Soon as Montrose they did espy,
O then they fought most valiantly
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale.

The M'Donalds they returned again,
The Camerons did their standard join,
M'Intosh played a bloody game
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale.
The M'Gregors fought like lions bold,
M'Phersons, none could them control,
M'Lauchlins fought, like loyal souls
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale.

M'Leans, M'Dougals, and M'Neils,
So boldly as they took the field,
And made their enemies to yield
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale.
The Gordons boldly did advance,
The Frasers fought with sword and lance,
The Grahams they made the heads to dance,
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale.

The loyal Stewarts, with Montrose,
So boldly set upon their foes,
And brought them down with Highland blows
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale.
Of twenty-thousand Cromwell's men,
Five-hundred fled to Aberdeen,
The rest of them lie on the plain,
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale. ​

 

[monochrom]

Oh Mann, das ist eines meiner absoluten Lieblingslieder...

Du kennst echt fast alle essentiellen Stücke!

What's the spring-breathing jasmine and rose ?
What's the summer with all its gay train
Or the splendour of autumn to those
Who've bartered their freedom for gain?

Let the love of our land's sacred rights
To the love of our people succeed
Let friendship and honour unite
And flourish on both sides the Tweed.

No sweetness the senses can cheer
Which corruption and bribery bind
No brightness that gloom can e'er clear
For honour's the sum of the mind

Let virtue distinguish the brave
Place riches in lowest degree
Think them poorest who can be a slave
Them richest who dare to be free

 

[Karsten]

Fiddlers bildet in der hinsicht ein wenig...

Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear, give an ear!
Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear,
Ye Jacobites by name,
Your fautes I will proclaim,
Your doctrines I maun blame - you shall hear!

What is Right, and what is wrang, by the law, by the law?
What is Right, and what is Wrang, by the law?
What is Right, and what is Wrang?
A short sword and a lang,
A weak arm and a strang, for to draw!

What makes heroic strife, famed afar, famed afar?
What makes heroic strife famed afar?
What makes heroic strife ?
To whet th' assassin's knife,
Or hunt a Parent's life, wi bluidy war!
Then let your schemes alone, in the State, in the State!
Then let your schemes alone, in the State!
Then let your schemes alone,
Adore the rising sun,
And leave a man undone, to his fate!​

 

[monochrom]

So, jetzt mach ich mir hier noch ein Bier auf und hör schön laut Folk. Zum Beispiel dieses Kleinod:

Will ye go tae Sheriffmuir,
Bauld John o'Innisture,
There tae see the noble Mar
And his Hieland laddies.
A' the true men o' the north,
Angus, Huntly, and Seaforth
Scouring on tae cross the Forth
Wi' their white cockadies.

There ye'll see the banners flare;
There ye'll hear the bagpipes rair,
And the trumpets deadly blare
Wi' the cannons' rattle.
There ye'll see the bauld McCraws,
Cameron's and Clanronald's raws
And a' the clans, wi' loud huzzas,
Rushing tae the battle.

There ye'll see the noble Whigs,
A' the heroes o' the brigs,
Raw hides and withered wigs,
Ridin' in array, man.
Riv'n hose and raggit hools,
Sour milk and girnin' gools,
Psaldonotuse-beuks and cutty-stools,
We'll see never mair, man.

Will ye go tae Sheriffmuir,
Bauld John o' Innisture,
Sic a day and sic an hour
Ne'er was in the North, man.
Siccan sights will there be seen,
And gin some be nae mista'en,
Fragrant gales will come bedeen,
Frae the waters o' Forth, man.

 

[Karsten]

Was würde Robert Burns dazu sagen?

We twa ha'e run about the braes, And pu'd the gowans fine
But we've wander'd many a weary foot, Sin’ auld lang syne

Chorus:
Should Auld acquaintance be for-got and ne-ver brought to mind
Should Auld acquaintance be for-got and days of Auld Lang Syne
For Auld Lang-Syne my dear, For Auld Lang-Syne
We’ll tak a cup O' kindness yet for Auld Lang-Syne

We twa ha'e paidl’t in the burn, Frae morning sun till dine
But seas between us braid ha’e roar’d, Sin auld lang syne
Chorus

And here’s a hand my trusty freen’, And gie's a hand O’ thine
And we’ll tak a right gude willy waught, For auld lang syne
Chorus

And surely ye'll be your pint stoup, As surely I’ll be mine
And we'll tak a cup O’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne​

 

[monochrom]

So, und jetzt was schön trauriges...

I've seen the smiling
Of fortune beguiling,
I've tasted her pleasures,
And felt her decay;
Sweet is her blessing,
And kind her caressing,
But now they are fled
And fled far away.

I've seen the forest
Adorned the foremost,
Wi' flowers o' the fairest
Baith pleasant and gay,
Sae bonnie was their blooming,
Their scent the air perfuming,
But now they are withered away.

I've seen the morning,
With gold hills adorning,
And loud tempests storming,
Before parting day,
I've seen Tweed's silver streams,
Glitt'ring in the sunny beams,
Grow drumlie and dark,
As they roll'd on their way;

O fickle fortune!
Why this cruel sportin?
Oh! Why thus perplex
Us poor sons of a day?
Thy frown canna fear me,
Thy smile canno cheer me,
Since the flowers o' the forest
Are a' wede away.

 

[Karsten]

Okay...

Highland Lament

Oh I am come to the low countrie
ochone, ochone , ochrie
Without a penny in my purse.
Tae buy a meal tae me.

It winsnae so in the hieland hills.
ochone, ochone , ochrie
nae body in the whole countrie.
Sae happy wis as me.

For then I had a score o' kie.
ochone, ochone , ochrie.
grazin on yon hills sae high.
And givin’ milk tae me.

And then I had three score o' yowes.
ochone, ochone , ochrie.
Skippin on yon bonnie knowes.
And castin’ woo’ fir me.

Till Charlie Stewart came at last.
ochone, ochone , ochrie.
MacDonalds arm was wantin then.
For Scotland, aye and for me.

Their woeful fate whit can I tell.
Right tae the wrong did yield.
MacDonald and his country fell.
Upon cullodens field.​

 

[monochrom]

*Auch anderen keltischen Kämpfern huldigt*

Forth to the battle!
Onward the fight,
Swift as the eagle in his flight!
Let not the sunlight o'er our pathway close,
Till we o'erthrow our Saxon foes.
Strong as yonder foaming tide,
Rushing down the mountainside;
Be ye ready, sword and spear,
Pour upon the spoiler near.

Winds! that float o'er us,
Bid the tyrant quail,
Ne'er shall his ruffian bands prevail!
Morning shall view us fetterless and free,
Slaves ne'er shall Cymry's children be.
Heaven our arms with conquest bless,
All our bitter wrongs redress;
Strike the harp! Awake the cry!
Valour's sons fear not to die.

 

[Karsten]

Cymry´s children? Is das dann nich walisisch?

Einer meiner liebsten:

Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
My mind been bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board a vision and followed with a will
Til next I came to anchor at the cross in Spancil Hill

It been on the twenty-third of June the day before the fair
When Irelands sons and daughters and friends assembled there
The young, the old, the brave and the bold came their duty to fulfill
At the parish church in Clooney, a mile from Spancil Hill

Delighted by the novelty, enchanted by the scene.
Where in me early boyhood where often I had been.
I thought I heard a murmur. I think I hear it still.
It's the little stream of water that flows down Spancil Hill.

To amuse a passing fancy, I laid down on the ground.
And all my school companions, they shortly gathered round.
When we were home returning, we danced with bright good will
To Martin Monahan's music, at the cross at Spancil Hill.

I went to see me neighbours to see what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone, the young ones turning grey
But I met the tailor Quigley, he's as bold as ever still
Ah, he used to make me britches when I lived at Spancil Hill

I paid a flying visit to my first and only love
She's as white as any lily, gentle as a dove
And she threw her arms around me, saying Johnny I love you still
Ah, she's now a farmer's daughter and the pride of Spancil Hill

I dreamt I knelt and kissed her as in the days of yore
Ah, Johnny you're only joking as many the time before
Then the cock he crew in the morning, he crew both loud and shrill
I awoke in California, many miles from Spancil Hill​

 

[monochrom]

Jo, das ist walisisch. Ich hatte aber keine Lust nen roten Drachen in die Schrift zu malen.

Cymrus Kinder können Kriegssongs. Sollten sich Metalbands mal angucken.


Saw ye the blazing star?
The Heav'ns looked down on Freedom's war
And lit her torch on high!
Bright on the Dragon crest
It tells that glory's wing shall rest
When warriors meet to die!
Let Earth's pale Tyrants read despair
And vengeance in its flame;
Hail ye, my Bards, the omen fair
Of Conquest and of Fame,
And swell the rushing mountain air
With songs to Glyndyr's name!

At the dead hour of night,
Marked ye how each majestic height
Burn'd in its awful beams?
Red shone th' eternal snows,
And all the land, as bright it rose,
Was full of glorious dreams!
Oh! eagle of the battles, rise,
The hope of Gwyned wakes;
It is your banner in the skies
Thro' each dark cloud that breaks,
And mantles with triumphal dyes
Your thousand hills and lakes.

A sound is on the breeze,
A murmur as of swelling seas;
The Saxon on his way.
Lo! spear and shield and lance
From Deva's waves with lightning glance
Reflected to the ay.
But who the torrent wave compels
A conqueror's chain to bear?
Let those who wake the soul that dwells
On our free winds, beware;
The greenest and the loveliest dells
May be the Lion's lair!

 

[Karsten]

Geil, wie heißt das?

In the merry month of June from me home I started,
Left the girls of Tuam so sad and broken hearted,
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother,
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother,
Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born,
Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins;
Bought a pair of brogues rattling o'er the bogs
And fright'ning all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five, Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky
road and all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah !

In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary, Started by daylight
next morning blithe and early, Took a drop of pure to keep me heartfrom sinking;
Thats a Paddy's cure whenever he's on drinking. See the lassies smile, laughing
all the while At me curious style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin'
Asked me was I hired, wages I required, I was almost tired of the
rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five, Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky
road and all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah !

In Dublin next arrived, I thought it be a pity
To be soon deprived a view of that fine city.
So then I took a stroll, all among the quality;
Me bundle it was stole, all in a neat locality.
Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind,
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin'
Enquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue
Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five, Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky
road and all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah !

From there I got away, me spirits never falling,
Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing.
The Captain at me roared, said that no room had he;
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy.
Down among the pigs, played some hearty rigs,
Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling;
When off Holyhead wished meself was dead,
Or better for instead on the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five, Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky
road and all the way to Dublin, Whack follol de rah !

Well the bouys of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it.
Blood began to boil, temper I was losing;
Poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing.
"Hurrah me soul" says I, me Shillelagh I let fly.
Some Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a hobble in,
With a load "hurray !" joined in the affray.
We quitely cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin.
One, two, three four, five, Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky
road and all the way to Dublin, Whack fol all the Ra !​