William Henry Drummond: Все стихи поэта

Все стихи Оригиналы Переводы

1 2 3 4 5 › »

The Hill Of San Sebastian

I ought to feel more satisfy an' happy dan

I be,

For better husban' dan ma own, it 's very

hard to fin'

An' plaintee woman if dey got such boy an'

girl as me

Would never have no troub' at all, an'

not'ing on deir min'

William Henry Drummond

De Bell Of St Michel

Go 'way, go 'way, don't ring no more, ole bell of Saint Michel,

For if you do, I can't stay here, you know dat very well,

No matter how I close ma ear, I can't shut out de soun',

It rise so high 'bove all de noise of dis beeg Yankee town.

An' w'en it ring, I t'ink I feel de cool, cool summer breeze

Dat's blow across Lac Peezagonk, an' play among de trees,

Dey're makin' hay, I know mese'f, can smell de pleasant smell

O! how I wish I could be dere to-day on Saint Michel!

William Henry Drummond

'Poleon Dore

A TALE OF THE SAINT MAURICE.

You have never hear de story of de young Napoleon Doré? Los' hees life upon de reever w'en de lumber drive go down?

W'ere de rapide roar lak tonder, dat's de place he's goin' onder,

W'en he's try save Paul Desjardins, 'Poleon hese'f is drown.

All de winter on de Shaintee, tam she's good, and work she's plaintee,

But we're not feel very sorry, w'en de sun is warm hees face,

W'en de mooshrat an' de beaver, tak' some leetle swim on reever,

An' de sout' win' scare de snowbird, so she fly some col'er place.

William Henry Drummond

The Log Jam

Dere 'a s beeg jam up de reever, w'ere rapide is runnin' fas',

An' de log we cut las' winter is takin' it all de room;

So boss of de gang is swearin', for not'ing at all can pass

An' float away down de current till somebody break de boom.

"Here 's for de man will tak' de job, holiday for a week

Extra monee w'en pay day come, an' ten dollar suit of clothes.

'T is n't so hard work run de log, if only you do it quick—

W'ere 's de man of de gang den is ready to say, ` Here goes?'"

William Henry Drummond

De Snowbird

O leetle bird dat's come to us w'en stormy win' she's blowin',

An' ev'ry fiel' an' mountain top is cover wit' de snow,

How far from home you're flyin', noboddy's never knowin'

For spen' wit' us de winter tam, mon cher petit oiseau!

We alway know you're comin', w'en we hear de firs' beeg storm,

A sweepin' from de sky above, an' screamin' as she go--

Can tell you're safe inside it, w'ere you're keepin' nice an' warm,

But no wan's never see you dere, mon cher petit oiseau!

William Henry Drummond

De Stove Pipe Hole

Dat's very cole an' stormy night on Village St. Mathieu,

W'en ev'ry wan he's go couché, an' dog was quiet, too--

Young Dominique is start heem out see Emmeline Gourdon,

Was leevin' on her fader's place, Maxime de Forgeron.

Poor Dominique he's lak dat girl, an' love her mos' de tam,

An' she was mak' de promise--sure--some day she be his famme,

But she have worse ole fader dat's never on de worl',

Was swear onless he's riche lak diable, no feller's get hees girl.

William Henry Drummond

Mon Choual "Castor"

I'm poor man, me, but I buy las' May

Wan horse on de Comp'nie Passengaire,

An' auction feller w'at sole heem say

She's out of de full-breed "Messengaire."

Good trotter stock, also galluppe,

But work long tam on de city car,

Of course she's purty well break heem up,

So come leetle cheap--twenty-wan dollarre.

William Henry Drummond

De Notaire Publique

M'sieu Paul Joulin, de Notaire Publique

Is come I s'pose seexty year hees life

An' de mos' riche man on Sainte Angelique

W'en he feel very sorry he got no wife--

So he's paint heem hees buggy, lak new, by Gor!

Put flower on hees coat, mak' hese'f more gay

Arrange on hees head fine chapeau castor

An' drive on de house of de Boulanger.

William Henry Drummond

De Papineau Gun

AN INCIDENT OF THE CANADIAN REBELLION OF 1837.

Bon jour, M'sieu'--you want to know

'Bout dat ole gun--w'at good she's for?

W'y! Jean Bateese Bruneau--mon pere,

Fight wit' dat gun on Pap'neau War!

Long tam since den you say--C'est vrai,

An' me too young for 'member well,

But how de patriot fight an' die,

William Henry Drummond

Memories

O spirit of the mountain that speaks to us to-night,

Your voice is sad, yet still recalls past visions of delight,

When 'mid the grand old Laurentides, old when the earth was new,

With flying feet we followed the moose and caribou.

And backward rush sweet memories, like fragments of a dream,

We hear the dip of paddle blades, the ripple of the stream,

The mad, mad rush of frightened wings from brake and covert start,

The breathing of the woodland, the throb of nature's heart.

William Henry Drummond

De Habitant

De place I get born, me, is up on de reever

Near foot of de rapide dat's call Cheval Blanc

Beeg mountain behin' it, so high you can't climb it

An' whole place she's mebbe two honder arpent.

De fader of me, he was habitant farmer,

Ma gran' fader too, an' hees fader also,

Dey don't mak' no monee, but dat isn't fonny

For it's not easy get ev'ryt'ing, you mus' know--

William Henry Drummond

Phil-O-Rum's Canoe

O Ma ole canoe! w'at's matter wit' you,

an' w'y was you be so slow?

Don 't I work hard enough on de paddle, an'

still you don 't seem to go-

No win' at all on de fronte side, an' current

she don 't be strong,

Den w'y are you lak lazy feller, too sleepy for

move along?

William Henry Drummond