Seven Drunken Nights

[freebornman]

Одной из самых известных песен англоязычного фолклора является песня про "семь пьяных ночей" (Child 274). Песни этой существует огромнейшее количество вариантов и она даже была переведена на русский язык в качестве детского (ох-хо-хо) стихотворения не помню кем, кажется, Маршаком.

Сюжет там в том, что мужик возвращается ночью домой сильно на бровях и наблюдает в доме признаки любовника жены. И когда требует от жены объяснений - она ему морочит голову, аппелируя к тому, что он "пьяный старый дурак".

Развитие сюжета происходит последовательно, по мере движения главного героя от входной двери к спальне. На каждом этапе обманутый муж обнаруживает чужую вещь на том месте, где должна быть аналогичная вещь, принадлежащая ему самому. ("Скажи-ка жена, чье это пальто висит там, где должно висеть мое старое пальто?", и т.п.)

Понятно, что, двигаясь вместе с сюжетом в направлении спальни, мы обречены на логический финал: последним обнаруженным чужим предметом (вскоре после чужой головы на подушке) должен несомненно стать хуй ("в том месте, где должен быть мой старый хуй") ...кхм... прошу прощения.

И хотя у меня есть сотни версий этой песни, есть только одна, где об этом поется прямым текстом, вызывая радостный смех в публике.
Подозреваю, что многие не слышали.

Вот она.

Ewan MacColl - The 'Owd Chap:

Comments

Если кого-то заинтересуют слова к этой детской песенке

[sable-ru.livejournal.com]

TH'OWD CHAP
===========

Recorded by Ewan MacColl on 'Saturday Night at the Bull and Mouth'; Blackthorne BR1055 1977

Th'owd chap came ower t'bank, bawling for his tea,
Saw a pair o' mucky clogs where his owd clogs should be,
Come here, wife, come here wife, what's this here I see?
How come this mucky pair o' clogs where my owd clogs should be?
Y'owd bugger, ye daft bugger, can't you plainly see?
That's just a couple of pickle jars me owd mam sent to me.
I've been ower hills and dales, me lass, and many a grassy moor,
But girt hob-nails on a pickle-jar I've never seen before.

Th'owd chap came ower t'bank, bawling for his tea,
Saw a coat on back o' t'door where his owd coat should be,
Come here, wife, come here wife, what's this here I see?
How come this coat on back o' t'door where my owd coat should be?
Y'owd bugger, ye daft bugger, can't you plainly see?
That's just an owd dish-clout me owd mam sent to me.
I've been ower hills and dales, me lass, and many a grassy moor,
But buttons on a dish clout I've never seen before.

Th'owd chap came ower t'bank, bawling for his tea
Saw a head on t'pillow where his owd head should be
Come here, wife, come here wife, what's this here I see?
How come this head on t'pillow where my owd head should be?
Y'owd bugger, ye daft bugger, can't you plainly see?
That's just a home-grown turnip me owd mam sent to me.
I've been ower hills and dales, me lass, and many a grassy moor,
But girt big teeth in a turnip I've never seen before.

Th'owd chap came ower t'bank, bawling for his tea
Saw a pair o' hairy cods where his own cods should be
Come here, wife, come here wife, what's this here I see?
How come this pair of hairy clods where my own cods should be?
Y'owd bugger, ye daft bugger, can't you plainly see?
That's just a couple of home-grown spuds me owd mam sent to me.
I've been ower hills and dales, me lass, and many a grassy moor,
But home-grown spuds with hairs on I've never seen before.

Th'owd chap came ower t'bank, bawling for his tea
Saw a girt big standing prick where his owd prick should be
Come here, wife, come here wife, what's this here I see?
How come this girt big standing prick where my owd prick should be?
Y'owd bugger, ye daft bugger, can't you plainly see?
That's just a home-grown carrot me owd mam sent to me.
I've been ower hills and dales, me lass, and many a grassy moor,
But a carrot diggin' a great big hole I've never seen before.

Найдено здесь: http://www.mudcat.org/thread.cfm?threadid=14346

[piphagor72.livejournal.com]

Ага, а вот еще вариант

As I went home on Monday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a horse outside the door where my old horse should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that horse outside the door where my old horse should be?

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely sow that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a saddle on a sow sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Tuesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a coat behind the door where my old coat should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that coat behind the door where my old coat should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a woollen blanket that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But buttons in a blanket sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Wednesday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a pipe up on the chair where my old pipe should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that pipe up on the chair where my old pipe should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But tobacco in a tin whistle sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Thursday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them boots beneath the bed where my old boots should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
They're two lovely Geranium pots me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But laces in Geranium pots I never saw before

And as I went home on Friday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a head upon the bed where my old head should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that head upon the bed where my old head should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a baby boy that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But a baby boy with his whiskers on sure I never saw before

And as I went home on Saturday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw two hands upon her breasts where my old hands should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns them hands upon your breasts where my old hands should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely night gown that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But fingers in a night gown sure I never saw before

As I went home on Sunday night as drunk as drunk could be
I saw a thing in her thing where my old thing should be
Well, I called me wife and I said to her: Will you kindly tell to me
Who owns that thing in your thing where my old thing should be

Ah, you're drunk,
you're drunk you silly old fool,
still you can not see
That's a lovely tin whistle that me mother sent to me
Well, it's many a day I've travelled a hundred miles or more
But hair on a tin whistle sure I never saw before

[piphagor72.livejournal.com]

Саш, спасибо, очень очень интересно!!!

[piphagor72.livejournal.com]

Забросали тебя тут текстами :-)))

[deusson.livejournal.com]

:)

[romikchef]

Мой друг, погибший при "освобождении" заложник на Дубровке Александр Карпов - тоже не мог пройти мимо этой песни.
Его вариант концовки мне нравится больше всего -

Но у морквы такой БОТВЫ нигде не видел я -
http://karpov.hole.ru/songs/7_buhih_nochey.htm
:)