Mi e ul mè cüsin da nom Arthur McBride
A sevum gio in spiagia a passegià, nüm bagai
Cerchii da capì cumè quel dì l’è nai
Parchè a l’eva la matina da Natal
A sevum tütt in pausa e caminavum pian
Pö l’è rivaa ul Sergent Napper cul Capural Vamp
E un tamburin a disedà tütt ul camp
A la matina a pestà ’l so rülant
“Good morning, good morning!” l’à vusaa ul sergent
“Anca a lee caru Sciur” g’hemm dii gentilment
Sa semm mia fermaa par mia perd temp
Parchè a l’eva la matina da Natal
E al taca “My fine fellows, if you will enlist
Ten guineas in gold I’ll stick to your fist
And a crown in the bargain for to kick up the dust
And drink the King’s health in the morning”
“For a soldier, he leads a very fine life,
And he always is blessed with a charming young wife
And he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife
And he always lives pleasant and charmin’
And a soldier, he always is decent and clean
In the finest of clothing he’s constantly seen
While other poor fellows go dirty and mean
And sup on thin gruel in the morning”
“Mi sun mia urgugliùs da quisti tò vestii
Parchè i ènn imprestaa e i ènn mia par mi
E pòdi mai cambiai gnanca da nòcc parchè
A la matina ma specian i früstàt
Nüm stemm dapar nüm ma liberi da véss
E sa fem cumpagnìa tra da nüm istess
Gh’émm mia ‘l desideri da vedè altri paes
Ma la pruposta a l’eva mia maa…”
“Ma nüm vörum mia aprufità dai to avances
Nal destin e pericul a g’hem na quei chance
E al semm che ta vörat mandag gio là in France
E pö anca che al saress fatal”
E ul Sergent: “Oh no, I’ll have no such chat,
And neither will I take it from snappy young brats,
For if you insult me with one other word,
I’ll cut off your heads in the morning”
E Arthur e mi sveltu tirum fö i ram
Ammò prima che lur riessan a möv na man
E quand ul Shillelagh* sura ‘l cò – mia luntan –
Cumè ‘n avìs se vurevan catai
E quii spàd urmai rügin che purtavan da taj
A ga i émm bütaa in maar in duva (ga) rivaran mai
“E mò catéi sü!” ‘l vusava Arthur McBride
“E i lam cerchii da limài”
And the little wee drummer, we flattened his bow
And we made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow
Threw it in the tide for to rock and to rol
And bade it a tedious returning
And we havin’ no money we paid them off in cracks
We paid no respect to their two bloody backs,
And we lathered them there like a pair of wet sacks
And left them for dead in the morning
And so, to conclude and to finish disputes,
We obligingly asked if they wanted recruits,
For we were the lads who would give them hard clouts
And bid them look sharp in the morning.
E inscì par conclüd e finì quisti liit
“A cercum dii reclüt” infin a gh’émm dii
Quand gh’è da pestà cumè quii matìn chì
Mò al fem nüm inveci che ti
Mi e ul mè cüsin da nom Arthur McBride
A sevum gio in spiagia a passegià, nüm bagai
Cerchii da capì cumè quel dì l’è nai
Parchè a l’eva la matina da Natal.
