Ils ont commencé la saison
En fauchant les moissons
Avec les sabots de leurs coursiers
Ils sont venus à la maison
Ils ont pris les garçons
Sans demander permission !
Je les ai vu courber l’échine
Sous les coups de fouet qui pleuvaient
Cordes d’acier bardées d’épines
Qui les mordaient, les saignaient.
Non, ne me demandez pas
De saluer les archers du Roi
Et tout là-haut sur la colline,
la potence est dressée
Pour pendre ceux qu’on a condamnés
On y accroche au matin
Le mendiant qui a faim,
le bandit de grands chemins,
Celui qui, dans sa misère,
Voulut maudire le nom du Roi
Parce qu’il lui avait pris sa terre,
Son blé, sa réserve de bois.
Non, ne me demandez pas
De saluer les archers du Roi
Derrière chez moi il y avait
une fille que j’aimais
et qui m’avait donné ses printemps.
Mais un jour on l’a emmenée
Pour aller assister
A la noce d’un archer !
J’ai vu des tours tomber la pierre
J’ai entendu les gens hurler
Son corps fut jeté sans prières
Sur le bas-côté d’un fossé.
Non, ne me demandez pas
De saluer les archers du Roi
En fauchant les moissons
Avec les sabots de leurs coursiers
Ils sont venus à la maison
Ils ont pris les garçons
Sans demander permission !
Je les ai vu courber l’échine
Sous les coups de fouet qui pleuvaient
Cordes d’acier bardées d’épines
Qui les mordaient, les saignaient.
Non, ne me demandez pas
De saluer les archers du Roi
Et tout là-haut sur la colline,
la potence est dressée
Pour pendre ceux qu’on a condamnés
On y accroche au matin
Le mendiant qui a faim,
le bandit de grands chemins,
Celui qui, dans sa misère,
Voulut maudire le nom du Roi
Parce qu’il lui avait pris sa terre,
Son blé, sa réserve de bois.
Non, ne me demandez pas
De saluer les archers du Roi
Derrière chez moi il y avait
une fille que j’aimais
et qui m’avait donné ses printemps.
Mais un jour on l’a emmenée
Pour aller assister
A la noce d’un archer !
J’ai vu des tours tomber la pierre
J’ai entendu les gens hurler
Son corps fut jeté sans prières
Sur le bas-côté d’un fossé.
Non, ne me demandez pas
De saluer les archers du Roi
envoyé par Alessandro - 12/5/2009 - 09:37
Langue: anglais
Versione inglese del coro Sea Green Singers di Oxford.
THE ARCHERS OF THE KING
The season started when the harvest was trampled
under the hooves of the king's royal men
They came to the house
They took away the boys
All without a bye your leave
I saw them bend their spines
under the whip lashes which fell like rain
Steel ropes laced with thorns
Bit into them and made them bleed
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
For on the hill over there stands the gallows pole
To hang those who've been condemned
They hang up the hungry beggar in the morning
The thief from off the road
Those who in their anger want to speak out against the King
Because he has taken away their land
Stolen their wheat, burnt their roofs
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
In my village there was a boy who I loved
And I gave him my spring time
But they came to find him
And because he resisted they killed my lover
I saw towers fall, my Pierre
I heard people howling
His body was thrown out without a prayer
Never, never, will I be able to forget
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
The season started when the harvest was trampled
under the hooves of the king's royal men
They came to the house
They took away the boys
All without a bye your leave
I saw them bend their spines
under the whip lashes which fell like rain
Steel ropes laced with thorns
Bit into them and made them bleed
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
For on the hill over there stands the gallows pole
To hang those who've been condemned
They hang up the hungry beggar in the morning
The thief from off the road
Those who in their anger want to speak out against the King
Because he has taken away their land
Stolen their wheat, burnt their roofs
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
In my village there was a boy who I loved
And I gave him my spring time
But they came to find him
And because he resisted they killed my lover
I saw towers fall, my Pierre
I heard people howling
His body was thrown out without a prayer
Never, never, will I be able to forget
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
No, don't ask me to salute the King's Archers
envoyé par Alessandro - 12/5/2009 - 09:42
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Paroles: Albert Santoni
Musique: André Pontin
Testo trovato su "La Canaille du Midi, chorale de chants révolutionnaires"