FOREIGN GYPSY SONGS

Her temples they are aching, As if wine she had been taking; Her tears are ever springing, Abandoned is her singing! She can neither eat nor nest With love she’s so distress’d; At length she’s heard to say: “Oh here I cannot stay, Go saddle me my steed, To my lord I must proceed; In his palace plenteously Both eat and drink shall I; The servants far and wide, Bidding guests shall run and ride. And when within the hall the multitude I see, I’ll raise my voice anew, and sing in Romany.”

Un erajai Sinaba chibando un sermon; Y lle falta un balicho Al chindomar de aquel gao, Y lo chanelaba que los Cales Lo abian nicabao; Y penela l’erajai, “Chaboró! Guillate a tu quer Y nicabela la peri Que terela el balicho, Y chibela andro Una lima de tun chaborí, Chabori, Una lima de tun chabori.”

A Friar Was preaching once with zeal and with fire; And a butcher of the town Had lost a flitch of bacon; And well the friar knew That the Gypsies it had taken; So suddenly he shouted: “Gypsy, ho! Hie home, and from the pot! Take the flitch of bacon out, The flitch good and fat, And in its place throw A clout, a dingy clout of thy brat, Of thy brat, A clout, a dingy clout of thy brat.”

Chaló Malbrun chingarár, Birandón, birandón, birandéra! Chaló Malbrun chingarár; No sé bus truterá! No sé bus truterá!

La romi que le caméla, Birandón, birandón, birandéra! La romi que le camela Muy curepeñada está, Muy curepeñada está.

S’ardéla á la felichá, Birandón, birandón, birandéra! S’ardéla á la felichá Y baribu dur dicá, Y baribu dur dicá.

Dicá abillar su burno, Birandón, birandón, birandéra! Dicá abillar su burno, En ropa callardá, En ropa callardá.

“Burno, lacho quirbó; Birandón, birandón, birandéra! Burno, lacho quiribó, Que nuevas has diñar? Que nuevas has diñar?”

“Las nuevas que io térelo, Birandón, birandón, birandéra! Las nuevas que io terélo Te haran orobar, Te haran orobar.

“Meró Malbrun mi eráy, Birandón, birandón, birandéra! Meró Malbrun mi eráy Meró en la chingá, Meró en la chingá.

“Sinaba á su entierro, Birandón, birandón, birandéra! Sinaba á su entierro La plastani sará, La plastani sará.

“Seis guapos jundunáres, Birandón, birandón, birandéra! Seis guapos jundunáres Le lleváron cabañar, Le lleváron cabañar.

“Delante de la jestári, Birandón, birandón, birandéra! Delante de la jestári Chaló el sacristá, Chaló el sacristá.

“El sacristá delante, Birandón, birandón, birandéra! El sacristá delante, Y el errajai palá, Y el errajai palá.

“Al majaro ortaláme, Birandón, birandón, birandéra! Al majaro ortaláme Le lleváron cabañar, Le lleváron cabañar.

“Y oté le cabañáron Birandón, birandón, birandéra! Y oté le cabañáron No dur de la burdá, No dur de la burdá.

“Y opré de la jestári Birandón, birandón, birandéra! Guillabéla un chilindróte; Sobá en paz, sobá! Sobá en paz, sobá!”

Malbrouk is gone to the wars, Birrandón, birrandón, birrandéra! Malbrouk is gone to the wars; He’ll never return no more! He’ll never return no more!

His lady-love and darling, Birrandon, birrandón, birrandéra His lady-love and darling His absence doth deplore, His absence doth deplore.

To the turret’s top she mounted, Birrandón, birrandón, birrandéra! To the turret’s top she mounted And look’d till her eyes were sore, And look’d till her eyes were sore.

She saw his squire a-coming, Birrandón, birrandón, birrandéra! She saw his squire a-coming; And a mourning suit he wore, And a mourning suit he wore.

“O squire, my trusty fellow; Birrandón, birrandón, birrandéra! O squire, my trusty fellow, What news of my soldier poor? What news of my soldier poor?”

“The news which I bring thee, lady, Birrandón, birrandón, birrandéra! The news which I bring thee, lady, Will cause thy tears to shower, Will cause thy tears to shower.

“Malbrouk my master’s fallen, Birrandón, birrandón, birrandéra! Malbrouk my master’s fallen, He fell on the fields of gore, He fell on the fields of gore.

“His funeral attended, Birrandón, birrandón, birrandéra! His funeral attended The whole reg’mental corps, The whole reg’mental corps.

“Six neat and proper soldiers, Birrandón, birrandón, birrandéra! Six neat and proper soldiers To the grave my master bore, To the grave my master bore.

“The parson follow’d the coffin, Birrandón, birrandón, birrandéra! The parson follow’d the coffin, And the sexton walk’d before, And the sexton walk’d before.

“They buried him in the churchyard, Birrandón, birrandón, birrandéra! They buried him in the churchyard, Not far from the church’s door, Not far from the church’s door.

“And there above his coffin, Birrandón, birrandón, birrandéra! There sings a little swallow: Sleep there, thy toils are o’er, Sleep there, thy toils are o’er.”