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„The Crafty Farmer”

The song that I ‘m going to sing,
I hope it will give you content,
Concerning a silly old nian,
That was going to pay his rent.
Poate v-o place-această-a mea
Poveste bătrânească
Despre-un moşneag ce se ducea
Arenda să plătească.

As he was riding along,
Along all on tine highway,
A gentleman-thief overtook him,
And thus to him did say.
Cum călărea pe drumul mare
Moşneagul cătinel,
L-ajunse-un domn tâlhar din urmă
Şi îi grăi astfel:
‘Well overtaken!’ said the thief,
‘Well overtaken!’ said he;
And ‘Well overtaken!’ said the old man,
‘If thou be good company.’
– „Cu bun ajunsul! Zise lotrul,
Cu bun ajunsul, bade.”
– „Cu bun sositul, spuse moşul,
De eşti om cumsecade.”
‘How far are you going this way?’
Which made the old nnan for to smile;
By my faith,’ said the old man,
‘I’m just going two mile.
– „Ia spune, mergi până departe?”
Iar moşul, mucalit:
– „De unde! Preţ de două zile,
Şi poate nici atât.
‘I am a poor farmer,’ he said,
And I farm a piece of ground,
And my half-year’s rent, kind sir,
Just comes to forty pound.
Sunt arendaş sărac; lucrez
O palmă de pământ;
Şi banii pentru şase luni
Cincizeci de lire sunt.
‘And my landlord has not been at home,
I’ve not seen lnim this twelvemonth or more.
Which makes my rent be large;
I’ve to pay him just fourscore.’
Pe moşier mai mult de-un an
Nu l-am văzut măcar
Şi-arenda a crescut mereu –
Acu-i duc un sutar.”
‘Thou shouldst not have told any body,
For thieves there’s ganging many;
If any should light on thee,
They’11 rob thee of thy money.’
– „Nu trăncăni. Sunt hoţi pe-aci!
Asupra-ţi de-or cădea –
Pe legea mea dacă te mint –
Rămâi făr-o para.”
‘0 never mind,’ said the old man,
‘Thieves I fear on no side,
For the money is safe in my bags,
On the saddle on which I ride.’
– „Să-ncerce, n-au decât! Eu banii
I-am pus la loc adânc.
Cin’ să-i găsească în desaga
Ce-am prins-o de oblânc?”
As they were riding along,
The old man was thinking no ill,
The thief he pulled out a pistol
And bid the old man stand still.
Şi cum mergeau şi nu gândea
Moşneagul la restrişte,
Tâlharul scoase un pistol
Şi-i spuse să nu mişte.
But the old man provd crafty,
As in the world there’s many;
He threw his saddle oer the hedge,
Saying, Fetch it, if thou ‘it have any.
Bâtrânul, om isteţ de fel
(Şi-n lume sunt destui),
Zvârli desaga peste-un gard:
– „Mai pune-ţi pofta-n cui!”
The thief got off his horse,
With courage stout and bold,
To search for the old man’s bag,
And gave him his horse to hold.
Înnebunit, după desagă
Sări din şea tâlharul
Şi-i dete moşului să ţină,
’Ntre-acestea, armăsarul.
The old man put ‘s foot i the stirrup
And he got on astride;
To its side he clapt his spur up,
You need not bid the old man ride.
Cât ai clipi din ochi, moşneagul
Sări, pe cal oricum,
Lovi din pinteni cu nădejde,
Şi se-aşternu la drum.
‘0 stay! ‘ said the thief, ‘0 stay!
And half the share thou shalt have;’
‘Nay, by my faith,’ said the old man,
‘For once I have bitten a knave.’
– „Stai! Să-mpărţim frăţeşte! Stai!”
Răspune moşul: – „Aş!
De când tot vreau să păcălesc
O dată un pungaş!”
The thief he was not content,
But he thought there must be bags;
He out with his rusty old sword
And chopt the old saddle in rags.
Dar lotrul să se dea bătut?
Cu gândul la arginţi,
Împunse şaua peste tot
C-o spadă numai zimţi.
When he came to the landlord’s house,
This 01d man he was almost spent;
Saying, Come, show me a private room
And I ’11 pay you a whole year’s rent.
Mai mult mort decât viu ajunse
Moşneagul la conac.
– „Plătesc pe-un an, grăi el, dacă
Mă-ncu într-un iatac.
‘I’ve met a fond fool by the way,
I swapt horses and gave him no boot;
But never mind,’ said the old man,
‘For I got the fond fool by the foot.’
Pe drum făcut-am schimb de cal
C-un hoţ şi un mişel –
Dar pân’ la urmă-am dovedit
Că sunt mai hoţ ca el.”
He opend this rogue’s portmantle,
It was glorious to behold;
There were three hundred pounds in silver,
And three hundred pounds in gold.
În punga hoţului, moşneagul
Află adăpostite,
Trei sute lire în argint
Şi-n aur tot atâtea.
And as be was riding home,
And down a narrow lane,
He espied his mare tied to a hedge.
Saying, Prithee, Tib, wilt tinou gang hame?
La-ntoarcere, văzându-şi iapa
Legată de o leasă,
Îi spuse: – „Ce zici, Tib, drăguţo,
Nu-ţi este dor de casă?”
When he got honne to his wife
And told her what he had done,
Up she rose and put one her clothes,
And about the house did run.
Când baba auzi isprava
Sări din pat degrabă,
Se îmbrăcă şi se-nvârti
Suveică prin cocioabă,
She sung, and she sung, and she sung,
She sung with a merry devotion,
Saying, If ever our dauginter gets wed,
It will help to enlarge her portion.
Apoi îi trase o cântare
Şi zise: – „Dacă fata
S-o mărita şi ea cândva,
Are şi zestrea gata.”
Baladă populară traducere de Leon Leviţchi

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