The Irish Rover è una canzone tradizionale irlandese che parla del disastro in mare di un vascello in viaggio dall'Irlanda all'America. È stata cantata e registrata da numerosi artisti, alcuni dei quali hanno apportato modifiche al testo.
Testo originale In the year of our lord, eighteen hundred and six, We set sail from the sweet cove of Cork We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks For the grand City Hall in New York 'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged 'fore and aft And how the wild winds drove her She had twenty-three masts, she 'stood several blasts And they called her the Irish Rover
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee There was Hogan from County Tyrone There was Johnny McGurk who was scared stiff of work And a man from Westmeath named Malone There was Slugger O'Toole who was drunk as a rule And fighting Bill Tracy from Dover And your man Mick McCann, from the banks of the Bann Was the skipper on the Irish Rover
We had one million bags of the best Sligo rags We had two million barrels of stones We had three million bales of old nanny goats' tails We had four million barrels of bones We had five million hogs and six million dogs And seven million barrels of porter We had eight million sides of old blind horses' hides On the board of the Irish Rover
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out And our ship lost her way in the fog And the whole of the crew was reduced down to two 'Twas meself and the captain's old dog Then the ship struck a rock; oh Lord what a shock The bulkhead was turned right over We turned nine times around - then the poor old dog got drowned Now I'm the last of the Irish Rover
Varianti La versione cantata dai The Pogues e dai The Dubliners ha due strofe che non fanno parte del testo tradizionale.
There was awl Mickey Coote Who played hard on his flute When the ladies lined up for a set He was tootin' with skill For each sparkling quadrille Though the dancers were fluther'd and bet With his smart witty talk He was cock of the walk And he rolled the dames under and over They all knew at a glance When he took up his stance That he sailed in The Irish Rover
For a sailor it's always a bother in life It's so lonesome by night and day That he longs for the shore And a charming young whore Who will melt all his troubles away Oh, the noise and the rout Swillin' poitin and stout For him soon the torment's over Of the love of a maid He is never afraid An old salt from the Irish Rover
Ci sono inoltre altri piccoli cambiamenti nella versione dei The Pogues:
Prima strofa, primo verso:
On the Fourth of July, Eighteen Hundred and Six
Prima strofa, quinto verso:
'Twas a wonderful craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft
Prima strofa, penultimo verso:
She stood several blasts, she had twenty-seven masts
Collegamenti esterni
Categoria:Brani musicali di artisti irlandesi