Sir Partick Spens
The king sits in Dunfermline town,
drinking the blood-red wine:
„O whare will I get a skeely skipper,
to sail this new ship of mine?”
O up and spake an elder knight,
sat at the king’s right knee:
„Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor
that ever saild the sea.”
Our king has written a broad letter,
and seald it with his hand,
and sent it to Sir Partick Spens,
was walking on the strand.
„To Noroway, to Noroway,
to Noroway over the faem;
the king’s daughter of Noroway,
’t is thou maun bring her hame.”
The first word that Sir Patrick read,
sae loud, loud laughed he;
the neist word that Sir Patrick read,
the tear blinded his ee.
„O wha is this has done his deed,
and tauld the king of me,
to send us out at this time of the year
to sail upon the sea?
„Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be is sleet,
our ship must sail the faem;
the king’s daughter of Noroway,
’t is we must fetch her hame.”
They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn,
wi a’ the speed they may;
they hae landed in Noroway,
upon a Wodensday.
They hadna been a week, a week
in Noroway but twae,
when that the lords of Noroway
bigan aloud to say:
„Ye Scottishmen spend a’ our king’s goud,
and a’ our quenis fee!”
„Ye lie, ye lie, ye liers loud,
fu loud I hear ye lie!
„For I brought as much white monie
as gane my men and me,
and I broght a hal-fou o gude red goud
out oer the sea wi me.
„Make ready, make ready my merrymen a’,
our gude ship sails the morn:”
„Now ever alake! my master dear,
I fear a deadly storm!”
„I saw the new moo late yestreen,
wi the auld moo in her arm:
and if we gang to sea, master,
I fear we’ll come to harm.”
They hadna sailed a league, a league,
a league but barely three,
when the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud,
and gurly grew the sea.
The ankers brak, and the topmast lap,
it was sic a deadly storm,
and the wawes came o’er the broken ship,
till a’ her sides were torn.
„O where will I get a gude sailor,
to take my helm in hand,
till I get up to the tall topmast,
to see if I can spy land?”
„O here am I a sailor gude,
to take the helm in hand,
till you go up to the tall topmast,
but I fear you’ll never spy land.”
He hadna gane a step, a step,
a step but barely ane,
when a bout flew out of our goodly ship,
and the salt sea it came in.
„Gae fetch a web o the silken claith,
another o the twine,
and wap them into our ship’s side,
and letna the sea come in.”
They fetch’a web o the silken claith,
another o the twine,
and they wapp’d them round that gude ship’s side,
but still the sea came in.
O laith, laith were our gude Scots lords
to weet their cork-heeled shoon;
but lang or a’ the play was playd,
they wat their hats aboon.
And mony was the feather-bed
that flattered on the faem,
and mony was the gude lord’s son
that never mair cam hame.
The ladyes wrang their fingers white,
the maidens tore their hair,
a’ for the sake of their true loves,
for them they’ll see na mair.
O lang, lang may the ladyes sit,
wi their fans into their hand,
before they see Sir Patrick Spens
come sailing to the strand.
And lang, lang may the maidens sit,
wi their goud kaims in their hair,
a’ waiting for their ain dear loves,
for them they’ll see na mair.
O forty miles off Aberdour
’t is fifty fathoms deep,
and there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens
wi the Scots lords at his feet.
In: Száz vers
Összeállította: Szerb Antal
Magvető Kiadó, Budapest
Harmadik kiadás, 1957
228–235. pp.
A könyvben párhuzamosan két nyelven (Arany János magyar fordításával) olvasható.
2014. október 24.
A kezdőoldalra