Blood Red Roses et les loups de mers du XIXème siècle.

Marins de New Bedford.

Quelques chansons de marins, à l'origine anglaises sans nul doute mais répandues dans les ports et sur les navire de la nouvelle Angleterre et de toute la côte est américaine au XIXème siècle. On retrouve la première "Blood red roses" dans le film Moby Dick, lors de l'appareillage. Ainsi que "A-roving" dans la scène de la taverne.

Our boots and clothes are all in pawn

Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

And its flamin' drafty 'round Cape Horn,

Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

chorus: Oh, ye pinks and posies,

Go down, ye blood red roses, Go down.

My dear old mother said to me,

My dearest son, come home from sea.

It's 'round Cape Horn we all must go

'Round Cape Horn in the frost and snow.

You've got your advance, and to sea you'll go

To chase them whales through the frost and snow.

It's 'round Cape Horn you've got to go,

For that is where them whalefish blow.

It's growl you may, but go you must,

If you growl too much your head they'll bust.

Just one more pull and that will do

For we're the boys to kick her through. 

In Amsterdam there lived a maid

Mark well what I say

In Amsterdam there lived a maid

And she was mistress of her trade

I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

Chorus

A-roving, a-roving

Since roving's been my ru-i-in

I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

I took that fair maid for a walk

Mark well what I say

I took that fair maid for a walk

And we had such a loving talk

I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

I put my arm around her waist

Mark well what I say

I put my arm around her waist

So slim and trim and tightly laced

I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

I took that maid upon my knee

Mark well what I say

I took that maid upon my knee

Said she, "Give over! Let me be!"

I'll go no more a-roving with you fair maid.

 

We sailed out of Dunmore Michelmas gone by

Cowhides and wool and live cargo

Twenty young Wild Geese ready fledged to fly

Sailing for the lowlands low

The lowlands low, the lowlands low

Sailing for the lowlands low

Sean Rouse the skipper from the church of Crook

Piery keeps log for his father

Crew all from Bannow, Fethard and the Hook

Sailing for the lowlands low

The lowlands low, the lowlands low

Sailing for the lowlands low

Ready with priming we'd our galliot gun

Muskets and pikes in good order

We should be riddled captives would be none

Death or else the lowlands low

The lowlands low, the lowlands low

Death or else the lowlands low

A pirate approached us many leagues from shore

We fought and we sunk him in good order

He'll go a-roving plundering no more

Sailing for the lowlands low

The lowlands low, the lowlands low

Sailing for the lowlands low

We smuggled out the Wild Geese weapons safe ashore

Then we unloaded our cargo

A fair wind is blowing we're headed for Dunmore

Sailing from the lowlands low

The lowlands low, the lowlands low

Sailing from the lowlands low

The lowlands low, the lowlands low

Sailing from the lowlands low

The hog-eye man is the man for me,

He came a sailin' from o'er the sea

And a hog-eye!

Railroad nigger with his Hog-Eye,

Row the boat ashore with her Hog-Eye, Oh,

What she wants is a Hog-Eye man!

Oh Sally's in the garden pickin' peas,

Her golden hair hangin' down to her knees.

And hand me down my walkin' cane,

I'm going to see Miss Sally Jane.

Oh, the Hog-Eye man gave a fond look of love,

And it charmed Sally's heart which is pure as a dove.

Oh, and who's been here since I been gone,

Some big buck nigger with his sea-boots on.

If I catch him here with me Sally any more,

I'll sling me hook and go to sea some more.

Oh, Sally in the parlor a-sittin' on his knee,

A-kissin' of the sailor who'd come o'er the sea.

Sally in the garden siftin' sand,

And the hog-eye man sittin' hand in hand.

Sally in the garden pickin' peas,

With a little hog-eye all sittin' on her knees.

Sally in the kitchen, punchin' duff,

And the cheeks of her arse goin' chuff, chuff, chuff

Oh, the hog-eye man is the man for me,

For he is blind and he cannot see.

Oh, in San Francisco, there she'll wait,

For the hog-eye man to come through her gate.

Oh, a hog-eye ship and a hog-eye crew,

A hog-eye mate and a skipper too.