![T-Bone Slim [Matti Valentin Huhta]](img/art/t1547379.jpg?1578767869 "T-Bone Slim [Matti Valentin Huhta]")
I’m a mild mannered man as can be,
And I’ve never done them harm that I can see;
Still, on me, they put a ban, and they threw me in the can:
They go wild, simply wild over me.
They accuse me of rascality,
But I can’t see why they always pick on me;
I’m as gentle as a lamb, but they take me for a ram:
They go wild, simply wild over me.
Oh, the bull, he went wild over me,
And he held his gun where everyone could see;
He was breathing rather hard when he saw my union card:
He went wild, simply wild over me.
Then, the judge, he went wild over me,
And I plainly saw we could never agree;
So, I let the man obey what his conscience had to say:
He went wild, simply wild over me.
Oh, the jailor, he went wild over me,
And he locked me up and threw away the key;
It seems to be the rage, so they keep me in a cage:
They go wild, simply wild over me.
They go wild, simply wild over me;
I’m referring to the bedbug and the flea;
They disturb my slumber deep, and I murmur in my sleep:
They go wild, simply wild over me.
Even God, He went wild over me;
This I found out when I knelt upon my knee.
Did He hear my humble yell? No, He told me, “Go to Hell!”
He went wild, simply wild over me.
Will the roses grow wild over me
When I’m gone to the land that is to be?
When my soul and body part, in the stillness of my heart,
Will the roses grow wild? Will the roses grow wild?
Will the roses grow wild over me?
And I’ve never done them harm that I can see;
Still, on me, they put a ban, and they threw me in the can:
They go wild, simply wild over me.
They accuse me of rascality,
But I can’t see why they always pick on me;
I’m as gentle as a lamb, but they take me for a ram:
They go wild, simply wild over me.
Oh, the bull, he went wild over me,
And he held his gun where everyone could see;
He was breathing rather hard when he saw my union card:
He went wild, simply wild over me.
Then, the judge, he went wild over me,
And I plainly saw we could never agree;
So, I let the man obey what his conscience had to say:
He went wild, simply wild over me.
Oh, the jailor, he went wild over me,
And he locked me up and threw away the key;
It seems to be the rage, so they keep me in a cage:
They go wild, simply wild over me.
They go wild, simply wild over me;
I’m referring to the bedbug and the flea;
They disturb my slumber deep, and I murmur in my sleep:
They go wild, simply wild over me.
Even God, He went wild over me;
This I found out when I knelt upon my knee.
Did He hear my humble yell? No, He told me, “Go to Hell!”
He went wild, simply wild over me.
Will the roses grow wild over me
When I’m gone to the land that is to be?
When my soul and body part, in the stillness of my heart,
Will the roses grow wild? Will the roses grow wild?
Will the roses grow wild over me?
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2015/4/19 - 14:52
Language: English
La versione di Candie Anderson Carawan, moglie di Guy Carawan, scritta dopo l’arresto per aver partecipato a Nashville nel 1960 ad un sit-in contro la segregazione razziale.
La propongo come versione de “The Popular Wobbly” perchè fu certamente per l’importanza politica di quel brano, ancora sentita a 40 anni di distanza, che la Anderson Carawan lo fece suo.
Testo trovato su Folk Archive
La propongo come versione de “The Popular Wobbly” perchè fu certamente per l’importanza politica di quel brano, ancora sentita a 40 anni di distanza, che la Anderson Carawan lo fece suo.
Testo trovato su Folk Archive
THEY GO WILD OVER ME
I'm as mild mannered man [girl] as can be,
And I've never done no harm that I can see.
Yet on me they put a ban, they would throw me in the can,
They go wild, simply wild, over me.
Oh, the manager he went wild over me.
When I went one afternoon and sat for tea.
He was breathin' mighty hard, when his pleas I'd disregard,
He went wild, simply wild, over me.
Then the judge, he went wild over me.
And I plainly saw we never could agree;
So I let his nibs obey what his conscience had to say,
He went wild, simply wild, over me.
Then the jailer, he went wild over me,
Well, he locked me up and threw away the key;
In a segregated cage I'd be kept, it was the rage,
He went wild, simply wild, over me.
They go wild, simply wild, over me,
I'm referring to the bedbug and the flea;
They disturb my slumber deep, they would rob me of my sleep,
They go wild, simply wild, over me.
Will the roses grow wild over me
When I'm gone into that land that is to be?
When my soul and body part, in the stillness of my heart,
Will the roses grow wild over me?
Will my children go wild or go free
When it's time for them to go to town for tea?
Will those bedsheet wearin' whites still yell "Down with Civil Rights"
Or will justice have come to Tennessee?
I'm as mild mannered man [girl] as can be,
And I've never done no harm that I can see.
Yet on me they put a ban, they would throw me in the can,
They go wild, simply wild, over me.
Oh, the manager he went wild over me.
When I went one afternoon and sat for tea.
He was breathin' mighty hard, when his pleas I'd disregard,
He went wild, simply wild, over me.
Then the judge, he went wild over me.
And I plainly saw we never could agree;
So I let his nibs obey what his conscience had to say,
He went wild, simply wild, over me.
Then the jailer, he went wild over me,
Well, he locked me up and threw away the key;
In a segregated cage I'd be kept, it was the rage,
He went wild, simply wild, over me.
They go wild, simply wild, over me,
I'm referring to the bedbug and the flea;
They disturb my slumber deep, they would rob me of my sleep,
They go wild, simply wild, over me.
Will the roses grow wild over me
When I'm gone into that land that is to be?
When my soul and body part, in the stillness of my heart,
Will the roses grow wild over me?
Will my children go wild or go free
When it's time for them to go to town for tea?
Will those bedsheet wearin' whites still yell "Down with Civil Rights"
Or will justice have come to Tennessee?
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2015/4/19 - 18:33
Language: Swedish
Traduzione svedese / Swedish translation / Traduction suédoise / Svensk översättning / Ruotsinkielinen käännös: Sege
DEN POPULÄRA REBELLEN
Hyggligare än jag kan ingen bli,
och inget ont jag gör, det vet ju ni.
Men dom svartpricka' mej för att svälta mej ihjäl.
Dom blir galna, riktigt galna över mej.
Dom säger att jag är full av djävulskap,
men det syns då inte alls på min bak.
Jag blir ju aldrig arg, men dom tar mej för en varg.
Dom blir galna, riktigt galna över mej.
Även pamparna blev galna över mej
då jag sa: »Bort med erat gamla grej,
jag går fram för I.W.W., det allra bästa jag kan se.«
Dom blev galna, riktigt galna över mej.
Nu är redarna galna över mej.
Det är därför som union säger nej
när jag begär ett kort, i system på denna ort.
Dom är galna, riktigt galna över mej.
Sen kom A. K. och ble galen över mej
så den sände mej iväg till landevej.
Jag fick jobba i ur och skur och bo i en gammal kur.
Den blev galen, riktigt galen över mej.
Dom blev galna, riktigt galna uti mej.
Ja, lössen menar jag och ingen tjej.
Då jag slumra till en stund, någon liten, liten blund.
Dom blev galna, riktigt galna uti mej.
Sist vart gud också galen över mej
då jag sa: »Gubbe lilla, hej på dej.«
Hörde han min bön så dyr? Nej han röt: »Åt hälsefyr.«
Han blev galen, riktigt galen över mej.
Hyggligare än jag kan ingen bli,
och inget ont jag gör, det vet ju ni.
Men dom svartpricka' mej för att svälta mej ihjäl.
Dom blir galna, riktigt galna över mej.
Dom säger att jag är full av djävulskap,
men det syns då inte alls på min bak.
Jag blir ju aldrig arg, men dom tar mej för en varg.
Dom blir galna, riktigt galna över mej.
Även pamparna blev galna över mej
då jag sa: »Bort med erat gamla grej,
jag går fram för I.W.W., det allra bästa jag kan se.«
Dom blev galna, riktigt galna över mej.
Nu är redarna galna över mej.
Det är därför som union säger nej
när jag begär ett kort, i system på denna ort.
Dom är galna, riktigt galna över mej.
Sen kom A. K. och ble galen över mej
så den sände mej iväg till landevej.
Jag fick jobba i ur och skur och bo i en gammal kur.
Den blev galen, riktigt galen över mej.
Dom blev galna, riktigt galna uti mej.
Ja, lössen menar jag och ingen tjej.
Då jag slumra till en stund, någon liten, liten blund.
Dom blev galna, riktigt galna uti mej.
Sist vart gud också galen över mej
då jag sa: »Gubbe lilla, hej på dej.«
Hörde han min bön så dyr? Nej han röt: »Åt hälsefyr.«
Han blev galen, riktigt galen över mej.
Contributed by Juha Rämö - 2022/11/11 - 14:24
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Parole di T-Bone Slim
Sulla melodia dell’allora molto popolare ragtime “They Go Wild, Simply Wild Over Me” (1917), di Joseph McCarthy e Fred Fisher.
Nell’edizione del 1920 del “Little Red Songbook”, il libretto di canti dell’Industrial Workers of The World (IWW), i cui membri erano appunto noti come “Wobblies”
Testo trovato su Political Folk Music Dot Org
Interpretata, tra gli altri, da Pete Seeger, Utah Phillips, David Rovics e Joe Glazer.
Come mai “tutti si scagliavano selvaggiamente” contro i militanti dell’IWW?
Perchè il suo cantore, lo svedese Joe Hill, fu assassinato dal Governo dell’Utah nel 1915?
Come mai nel 1916 la polizia di Everett, Washington, sparò sui wobblies in sciopero uccidendone 5?
Perchè il wobbly Frank Little fu barbaramente linciato in Montana nel 1917?
Come mai il wobbly Wesley Everest, veterano decorato della Grande Guerra, fu linciato a Centralia, Washington, nel 1919, solo per aver difeso i suoi compagni dell’IWW da un attacco armato di fanatici patriottardi?
Perchè wobblies come Giuseppe “Smiling Joe” Ettor, Arturo Giovannitti, "Big Bill" Haywood, Elizabeth Gurley Flynn ebbero vite difficilissime, punteggiate da continui arresti, detenzioni, esilii e violenze?
Semplice: i wobblies erano sindacalisti, difendevano i diritti dei lavoratori dallo sfruttamento capitalista e, per lo stesso motivo, ripudiavano la guerra. E non scendevano a compromessi con nessuno. E per tutto questo rompevano le palle: le rompevano al Governo federale e a quelli nazionali, le rompevano ai padroni e alle loro spie, le rompevano a vigilantes, poliziotti e crumiri, le rompevano financo alla “brava gente”, i buoni cristiani timorati d’Iddio.
La resa dei conti avvenne nel 1917, quando gli USA decisero di partecipare alla Grande Guerra... L’IWW si oppose fermamente, nonostante il timore di alcuni suoi dirigenti che quella posizione avrebbe scatenato una violenta reazione contro l’organizzazione... Timore ben presto rivelatosi fondato: il Governo federale varò l’ignominioso “Espionage Act” in base al quale chiunque si opponesse allo sforzo bellico era considerato un traditore e una spia. La polizia chiuse le sedi dell’IWW in tutta la Federazione, procedendo al sequestro di quanto appartenente all’organizzazione, e centinaia di militanti furono arrestati e messi sotto processo. La persecuzione “legale” diede ovviamente la stura ai “pogrom”, ad opera di vigilantes e mebri di organizzazioni di destra, patriottiche e razziste, come l’American Legion e il Ku Klux Klan.
Tra il 1918 ed il 1920 si tennero diversi processi nel corso dei quali decine e decine di wobblies furono condannati a pesanti pene detentive, fino a 20 anni. Questa la dichiarazione di difesa che uno di loro (di cui il nome si è perso) fece nel 1918:
This war is a business man's war and we don't see why we should go out and get shot in order to save the lovely state of affairs that we now enjoy.”
“Mi chiedete perché l’ I.W.W. non è patriottico. Se voi foste un barbone, senza una coperta; se aveste lasciato moglie e figli per andare all’Ovest a cercare un lavoro, e non li aveste più visti da allora; se non aveste mai potuto lavorare abbastanza a lungo nello stesso posto da maturare il diritto a votare; se aveste dormito in una schifosa, lercia baracca, mangiando il cibo marcio che ci si aspetta in posti come quelli; se vice sceriffi avessero sparato al vostro pentolame riducendolo ad un colabrodo e avessero versato il vostro cibo a terra; se i vostri salari venissero sempre abbassati ogni volta che i padroni pensano di avervi messi sotto; siccome c’è una legge per Ford, Suhr e Mooney [dirigenti sindacali californiani condannati al carcere per disordini scoppiati durante uno sciopero di braccianti nel 1913, ndr], ed un’altra legge per Harry Thaw [miliardario psicopatico ed assassino che andò sempre libero nonostante i suoi crimini, ndr]; se ogni rappresentante della legge, dell’ordine e della nazione vi avesse bastonato, vi avesse trascinato in prigione, ed il buon popolo cristiano avesse applaudito e avesse urlato loro di continuare, ma come diavolo fareste ad essere patriottici?
Questa guerra è una guerra dei padroni e noi [wobblies] non vediamo proprio perché dovremmo andare a farci sparare per salvare questo bel status quo di cui oggi godiamo.”