The Lonesome Death Of Hattie Carroll
Bob DylanOriginale | Versione francese di Hugues Aufray sull'album Chante Dylan (1965)... |
THE LONESOME DEATH OF HATTIE CARROLL William Zanzinger killed poor Hattie Carroll With a cane that he twirled around his diamond ring finger At a Baltimore hotel society gath'rin'. And the cops were called in and his weapon took from him As they rode him in custody down to the station And booked William Zanzinger for first-degree murder. But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears, Take the rag away from your face. Now ain't the time for your tears. William Zanzinger, who at twenty-four years Owns a tobacco farm of six hundred acres With rich wealthy parents who provide and protect him And high office relations in the politics of Maryland, Reacted to his deed with a shrug of his shoulders And swear words and sneering, and his tongue it was snarling, In a matter of minutes on bail was out walking. But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears, Take the rag away from your face. Now ain't the time for your tears. Hattie Carroll was a maid of the kitchen. She was fifty-one years old and gave birth to ten children Who carried the dishes and took out the garbage And never sat once at the head of the table And didn't even talk to the people at the table Who just cleaned up all the food from the table And emptied the ashtrays on a whole other level, Got killed by a blow, lay slain by a cane That sailed through the air and came down through the room, Doomed and determined to destroy all the gentle. And she never done nothing to William Zanzinger. But you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears, Take the rag away from your face. Now ain't the time for your tears. In the courtroom of honor, the judge pounded his gavel To show that all's equal and that the courts are on the level And that the strings in the books ain't pulled and persuaded And that even the nobles get properly handled Once that the cops have chased after and caught 'em And that the ladder of law has no top and no bottom, Stared at the person who killed for no reason Who just happened to be feelin' that way without warnin'. And he spoke through his cloak, most deep and distinguished, And handed out strongly, for penalty and repentance, William Zanzinger with a six-month sentence. Oh, but you who philosophize disgrace and criticize all fears, Bury the rag deep in your face For now's the time for your tears. | THE LONESOME DEATH OF HATTIE CARROLL William Zanzinger a tué Hattie Carroll Il l'a tué sans raison d'un coup de canne en or Au cours d'une soirée donnée à Baltimore. La police appelée désarma l'assassin Il fut accompagné jusqu'au poste voisin Inculpé d'homicide et gardé en prison. Vous qui philosophez tout le temps et critiquez les gens Ne sortez pas votre mouchoir, vous pleurerez plus tard. William Zanzinger tout juste vingt quatre ans Possédait un domaine d'au moins trois cents hectares Héritier, protégé par de riches parents, Des soutiens politiques et des murs de dollars. Il haussa les épaules, poussa quelques jurons Et fut presque aussitôt libéré sous caution. Vous qui philosophez tout le temps et critiquez les gens Ne sortez pas votre mouchoir, vous pleurerez plus tard. Hattie Carroll était plutôt noire de couleur Elle avait 50 ans et dix enfants mineurs Elle vidait les ordures et apportait les plats S'approchait de la table mais ne s'asseyait pas Elle n'osait adresser la parole au patron Vidant les cendriers, balayant le salon, Elle fut tué sur le coup, pauvre femme de misère Elle qui n'avait rien fait à William Zanzinger. Vous qui philosophez tout le temps et critiquez les gens Ne sortez pas votre mouchoir, vous pleurerez plus tard. Au palais de justice, le juge pris son temps Pour étudier l'affaire très attentivement Il dit tout citoyen pris en flagrant délit Qu'il soit riche, qu'il soit pauvre, devait être puni Et que la loi ferait aucune distinction Condamnant sans faiblesse ceux qui tuent sans raison Attendus ces motifs, le juge d'un ton sévère Donna six mois de prison à William Zanzinger. Vous qui philosophez tout le temps et critiquez les gens Vous pouvez sortir vos mouchoirs, il est bien temps de pleurer ce soir. |