Волохонский, Волков, Фёдоров - Джойс - Part 6
текст песни

Finnegan's wake
Irish folk song

Tim Finnegan lived on the very corner
From right to left a little sideways
In his left hand he had a poker
And in his right hand he held a scraper

He was a simple stove-plasterer
He liked to drink as well as anyone
We loved it for its simplicity
And drinking like this, by God, is not a sin

Dancing at the wake in three halves
Shake the floorboards, sweep the whole floor
Wave the bench, slam the lid
Jump under the chair, get under the table!

One morning Tim reached the bottom
He shook his head amid sighs and wheezes
He fell off the stove in the middle of the day
And by evening he broke his neck and died

They laid him in an open coffin
On the family bed lengthwise on the beans
Half a liter of vodka is at his feet
Two mugs of beer stand in their heads

Dancing at the wake in three halves
Shake the floorboards, sweep the whole floor
Wave the bench, slam the lid
Jump under the chair, get under the table!

Friends gathered to remember him
A young widow calls for breakfast:
First, some tea, because you can’t live without tea
And there, you see, he’s carrying a cigarette

And then have a drink. Here Nyura yells:
My handsome man, where are you going, where are you going?!
And Klavka told her: Stop lying!
Not where and where, but here and there!

Dancing at the wake in three halves
Shake the floorboards, sweep the whole floor
Wave the bench, slam the lid
Jump under the chair, get under the table!

Here another Nyura let’s scream:
Ah, Nyura, alas, you are wrong!
But Nyura managed to drive it down her throat
And don’t take a sip of that one, alas...

Big fight, big family
Sisters and brothers, man with man
They fight and shake like a goose and a pig,
With a glove, claws, a shoe with a boot.

Dancing at the wake in three halves
Shake the floorboards, sweep the whole floor
Wave the bench, slam the lid
Jump under the chair, get under the table!

And Mickey Klavkin sits alone
His sweet soul is full of sorrow
A bottle of vodka flies at him
And it pours onto the dead body

Tim is resurrected and doused with vodka,
Look, he's getting up from the bed from the coffin
Finnegan stands up and screams:
Even death doesn’t take me, yours!

Dancing at the wake in three halves
Shake the floorboards, sweep the whole floor
Wave the bench, slam the lid
Jump under the chair, get under the table!