Toen 'ie had gelogen van z'n leeftijd
(Hij was wel groot, maar pas veertien jaar)
Maar ze konden iedereen gebruiken, daar
Dus leeftijd, daar vroeg niemand meer naar
Z'n moeder huilde zachtjes bij 't afscheid
Z'n vader was al vechten aan 't front
Diens laatste brief dateerde van maanden geleden alweer
Dus Johnnie kon niet vragen wat 'ie d'r van vond
't Was niet nodig lang te trainen
Dat deden ze al maanden niet meer
Gewoon een pak, een helm en een geweer, meer niet
En Johnnie werd direct getransporteerd
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
't Was heel anders dan ze 'm vertelden
Al 't lawaai en de verschrikkelijke stank
En dat ze altijd schreeuwden en altijd vloekten
En dan de verplichte sterke drank
Nee, er was niets prachtigs aan de oorlog
Zoals ze thuis zo fraai hadden beloofd
Elke bom maakte aarde meer tot blubber
En niemand die daar in vrede gelooft
En nergens is een vriend of een makker
En iedereen is minstens even bang
Dus drinken ze hun flessen en zingen hun lied
Dan duurt de angst tenminste minder lang
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Al na een week is Johnnie murw geslagen
Weet hij al nergens meer iets van
Verdoofd door koude modder en door bommen
Wou hij alleen dat er een einde aan kwam
Dus toen het bevel kwam van: 'ten aanval'
Was Johnnie zo gehoorzaam als een hond
Hij is toch twintig meter ver gekomen
Toen een kogel zijn vermoeide lichaam vond
Ze konden 'm niet redden, waar hij lag
Dus stierf hij daar na uren helse pijn
Tegen de stank bedekten ze hem met aarde, in de nacht
Dat moest dan maar 't graf van Johnnie zijn
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Een hoge officier kwam bij z'n moeder
En heeft haar 't verhaal verteld
Hoe hij voor't vaderland is gestorven in Vlaanders veld,
Nee, haar zoon was werkelijk een held
En voor zijn durf en zijn getoonde moed
Kreeg zij voor hem een eremetaal
Dat hing ze naast 't zelfde van z'n vader
Aan de muur. En dat is dan 't eind van 't verhaal
Van Johnnie, die dacht dat de oorlog mooi was
Omdat ze 'm dat steeds hadden verteld
Dat je door domme plicht, tucht en discipline
Werkelijk kan worden tot een held
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
(Hij was wel groot, maar pas veertien jaar)
Maar ze konden iedereen gebruiken, daar
Dus leeftijd, daar vroeg niemand meer naar
Z'n moeder huilde zachtjes bij 't afscheid
Z'n vader was al vechten aan 't front
Diens laatste brief dateerde van maanden geleden alweer
Dus Johnnie kon niet vragen wat 'ie d'r van vond
't Was niet nodig lang te trainen
Dat deden ze al maanden niet meer
Gewoon een pak, een helm en een geweer, meer niet
En Johnnie werd direct getransporteerd
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
't Was heel anders dan ze 'm vertelden
Al 't lawaai en de verschrikkelijke stank
En dat ze altijd schreeuwden en altijd vloekten
En dan de verplichte sterke drank
Nee, er was niets prachtigs aan de oorlog
Zoals ze thuis zo fraai hadden beloofd
Elke bom maakte aarde meer tot blubber
En niemand die daar in vrede gelooft
En nergens is een vriend of een makker
En iedereen is minstens even bang
Dus drinken ze hun flessen en zingen hun lied
Dan duurt de angst tenminste minder lang
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Al na een week is Johnnie murw geslagen
Weet hij al nergens meer iets van
Verdoofd door koude modder en door bommen
Wou hij alleen dat er een einde aan kwam
Dus toen het bevel kwam van: 'ten aanval'
Was Johnnie zo gehoorzaam als een hond
Hij is toch twintig meter ver gekomen
Toen een kogel zijn vermoeide lichaam vond
Ze konden 'm niet redden, waar hij lag
Dus stierf hij daar na uren helse pijn
Tegen de stank bedekten ze hem met aarde, in de nacht
Dat moest dan maar 't graf van Johnnie zijn
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Een hoge officier kwam bij z'n moeder
En heeft haar 't verhaal verteld
Hoe hij voor't vaderland is gestorven in Vlaanders veld,
Nee, haar zoon was werkelijk een held
En voor zijn durf en zijn getoonde moed
Kreeg zij voor hem een eremetaal
Dat hing ze naast 't zelfde van z'n vader
Aan de muur. En dat is dan 't eind van 't verhaal
Van Johnnie, die dacht dat de oorlog mooi was
Omdat ze 'm dat steeds hadden verteld
Dat je door domme plicht, tucht en discipline
Werkelijk kan worden tot een held
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2016/11/10 - 13:53
Language: Italian
Traduzione italiana di Riccardo Venturi
13 novembre 2016 11:28
13 novembre 2016 11:28
JOHNNIE
Allora aveva mentito sulla sua età
(Era grosso, ma non aveva ancora quattordici anni)
Ma potevano utilizzare chiunque, là,
Là l'età non la chiedevano più a nessuno
La mamma piangeva sommessa al commiato
Suo padre era già a combattere al fronte
La sua ultima lettera datava oramai da mesi
E quindi Johnnie non poteva chiedere cosa ne pensava
Non c'era bisogno di addestrarsi a lungo
Questo non lo facevano ormai più da mesi
Bastava una divisa, un elmetto e un fucile, nient'altro
E Johnnie fu direttamente messo su una tradotta
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Era molto diverso da quel che gli avevano detto
Tutto il frastuono e il puzzo terrificante
E poi che urlavano e bestemmiavano sempre
E dovevano per forza bere roba forte
No, no, non c'era niente di bello nella guerra
Come in quelle belle promesse fattegli a casa
La terra a ogni bomba diventava sempre più poltiglia
E nessuno là credeva nella pace
E da nessuna parte c'è un amico o un compagno
E tutti quanti hanno perlomeno la stessa paura
E quindi si scolano le loro bottiglie e cantano la loro canzone
Così almeno il terrore dura di meno
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Dopo solo una settimana Johnnie è suonato
Non capisce più niente, da nessuna parte
Stordito dal fango gelato e dalle bombe
Vorrebbe soltanto che tutto finisse
Così quando è arrivato l'ordine di attaccare
Johnnie era ubbidiente come un cagnolino
E' avanzato ancora una ventina di metri
E poi una pallottola lo ha preso nel corpo fiaccato
Non potevano salvarlo là dove era steso
E così morì dopo ore di dolore lancinante
La notte lo coprirono di terra per non farlo puzzare,
E da allora questa è la tomba di Johnnie.
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Un alto ufficiale arrivò da sua madre
E le ha raccontanto quel che è successo,
Di come è caduto per la patria sul campo delle Fiandre,
Eh, suo figlio era davvero un eroe
E per la sua audacia e il coraggio che ha mostrato
Lei ha avuto per lui una medaglia al valore
Che lei ha appeso al muro accanto a quella del padre;
E questa è la fine di tutta la storia.
La storia di Johnnie, che pensava la guerra fosse bella
Perché gli avevano sempre raccontato
Che obbedendo da idiota con ordine e disciplina
Poteva davvero diventare un eroe
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Allora aveva mentito sulla sua età
(Era grosso, ma non aveva ancora quattordici anni)
Ma potevano utilizzare chiunque, là,
Là l'età non la chiedevano più a nessuno
La mamma piangeva sommessa al commiato
Suo padre era già a combattere al fronte
La sua ultima lettera datava oramai da mesi
E quindi Johnnie non poteva chiedere cosa ne pensava
Non c'era bisogno di addestrarsi a lungo
Questo non lo facevano ormai più da mesi
Bastava una divisa, un elmetto e un fucile, nient'altro
E Johnnie fu direttamente messo su una tradotta
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Era molto diverso da quel che gli avevano detto
Tutto il frastuono e il puzzo terrificante
E poi che urlavano e bestemmiavano sempre
E dovevano per forza bere roba forte
No, no, non c'era niente di bello nella guerra
Come in quelle belle promesse fattegli a casa
La terra a ogni bomba diventava sempre più poltiglia
E nessuno là credeva nella pace
E da nessuna parte c'è un amico o un compagno
E tutti quanti hanno perlomeno la stessa paura
E quindi si scolano le loro bottiglie e cantano la loro canzone
Così almeno il terrore dura di meno
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Dopo solo una settimana Johnnie è suonato
Non capisce più niente, da nessuna parte
Stordito dal fango gelato e dalle bombe
Vorrebbe soltanto che tutto finisse
Così quando è arrivato l'ordine di attaccare
Johnnie era ubbidiente come un cagnolino
E' avanzato ancora una ventina di metri
E poi una pallottola lo ha preso nel corpo fiaccato
Non potevano salvarlo là dove era steso
E così morì dopo ore di dolore lancinante
La notte lo coprirono di terra per non farlo puzzare,
E da allora questa è la tomba di Johnnie.
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Un alto ufficiale arrivò da sua madre
E le ha raccontanto quel che è successo,
Di come è caduto per la patria sul campo delle Fiandre,
Eh, suo figlio era davvero un eroe
E per la sua audacia e il coraggio che ha mostrato
Lei ha avuto per lui una medaglia al valore
Che lei ha appeso al muro accanto a quella del padre;
E questa è la fine di tutta la storia.
La storia di Johnnie, che pensava la guerra fosse bella
Perché gli avevano sempre raccontato
Che obbedendo da idiota con ordine e disciplina
Poteva davvero diventare un eroe
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Language: English
English translation by Riccardo Venturi
November 13, 2016 18:24
November 13, 2016 18:24
JOHNNIE
Well, he lied somewhat about his real age
(He was a sturdy boy, but not yet fourteen)
But anyone could be used there, then,
Nobody's age was asked then anymore.
His mother wept quietly when he left,
His wather was already fighting on the front.
No more letters from him since months,
So Johnnie couldn't ask him for advice
There was no need of long training,
They hadn't been doing this for months;
A uniform, a helmet and a gun, that was all
And Johnnie was put directly on a trooptrain.
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Well, it wasn't really like he had been told.
All was noise, noise and terrible stench,
Everyone didn't anything but screaming and swearing,
And drinking strong stuff by force
Oh no, there was nothing beautiful in war,
Like what he'd been promised when he was at home.
The more bombs fell, the more the earth turned into mud
And nobody there believed there would be peace again.
Nowhere friends, nowhere brothers
And everyone there has the same fear;
So they drain bottles and sing their songs
So that terror can last less time
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
After only a week, Johnnie's sort of punchdrunk,
Beaten to a jelly, he's out of his mind,
The cold mud and the bombs are driving him crazy
And he'd only like all this soon be over
So, when the order came to attack
Johnnie obeyed like a dog.
He hadn't moved forward more than thirty yards
When a ball met him in his wornout body.
He couldn't be rescued there, where he was lying,
So he died after hours of shooting pain.
Later in the night he was buried to avoid stinking
And since that time, this is Johnnie's grave.
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
A high rank officer came to his mother
To tell her all what had happened,
How his son fell for fatherland on Flanders field,
Well, his son was a real hero
And he showed so much courage and boldness
That his mother got a medail of honour in his name.
She hanged it on the wall, next to that of his father,
And that's the end of the whole story.
The story of Johnnie, who thought war is beautiful
Because someone told him over and over again
That by blind obedience, submission and discipline
He could really become a hero.
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Well, he lied somewhat about his real age
(He was a sturdy boy, but not yet fourteen)
But anyone could be used there, then,
Nobody's age was asked then anymore.
His mother wept quietly when he left,
His wather was already fighting on the front.
No more letters from him since months,
So Johnnie couldn't ask him for advice
There was no need of long training,
They hadn't been doing this for months;
A uniform, a helmet and a gun, that was all
And Johnnie was put directly on a trooptrain.
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Well, it wasn't really like he had been told.
All was noise, noise and terrible stench,
Everyone didn't anything but screaming and swearing,
And drinking strong stuff by force
Oh no, there was nothing beautiful in war,
Like what he'd been promised when he was at home.
The more bombs fell, the more the earth turned into mud
And nobody there believed there would be peace again.
Nowhere friends, nowhere brothers
And everyone there has the same fear;
So they drain bottles and sing their songs
So that terror can last less time
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
After only a week, Johnnie's sort of punchdrunk,
Beaten to a jelly, he's out of his mind,
The cold mud and the bombs are driving him crazy
And he'd only like all this soon be over
So, when the order came to attack
Johnnie obeyed like a dog.
He hadn't moved forward more than thirty yards
When a ball met him in his wornout body.
He couldn't be rescued there, where he was lying,
So he died after hours of shooting pain.
Later in the night he was buried to avoid stinking
And since that time, this is Johnnie's grave.
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
A high rank officer came to his mother
To tell her all what had happened,
How his son fell for fatherland on Flanders field,
Well, his son was a real hero
And he showed so much courage and boldness
That his mother got a medail of honour in his name.
She hanged it on the wall, next to that of his father,
And that's the end of the whole story.
The story of Johnnie, who thought war is beautiful
Because someone told him over and over again
That by blind obedience, submission and discipline
He could really become a hero.
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
Go, Johnnie, go
Go, Johnnie, be good
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Note for non-Italian users: Sorry, though the interface of this website is translated into English, most commentaries and biographies are in Italian and/or in other languages like French, German, Spanish, Russian etc.
[2000]
Parole e musica di Bram Vermeulen
Nell’album intitolato “Oorlog Aan Den Oorlog”
Lyrics and music by Bram Vermeulen
Album: Oorlog aan den oorlog
Woorden en muziek: Bram Vermeulen
Album: Oorlog aan den oorlog
1. Ik was erbij
2. Johnnie
3. Onschuldig landschap
4. De helden
5. Dans met mij
6. Met z'n allen
7. De verhalen
8. Ja het is waar
9. Meneer Van Der Velde (1)
10. Meneer Van Der Velde (2)
11. Verschrikkelijk inzicht
12. Ja het is waar (instrumentaal)
Trovo il brano anche nel disco collettivo “Seeds of Peace: Passendale Suite 2” (2005), con June Tabor, Coope Boyes & Simpson, Thomas Friz, Bram Vermeulen, Willem Vermandere, Patrick Riguelle, Koen De Cauter, Une Anche Passe, Vredesconcerten Quartet. Trattasi della registrazione di una performance musicale sulla Grande Guerra realizzata nel 2002 presso il cimitero di guerra di Tyne Cot ad Ypres, Belgio. [BB]