收聽Ewan MacColl的Van Dieman's Land歌詞歌曲

Van Dieman's Land

Ewan MacColl2011年5月1日

Van Dieman's Land 歌詞

 

Van Dieman's Land - Ewan MacColl

Composed by:Trad/ArrMacColl

Come all you wild and wicked youths whersomever you may be

I pray now pay attention and listen unto me

The fate of our poor transports as you shall understand

The hardships they do undergo upon Van Diemen's Land

My parents reared me tenderly good learning give to me

Till I by bad companions beguiled my home from me

I was brought up in Worcestershire

Near to the town did dwell

My name it Henry Herbert and many knows me well

Me and three more went out one night

To Squire Daniel's park

To get some game was our intent

As the night come proving dark

And to our sad misfortune they took us there by speed

And sent us off to Warwick Gaol

Which made our hearts to bleed

'Twas at the March assizes at the bar we did appear

Like Job we stood with patience to hear our sentence there

And being some old offenders

It made our case go hard

Our sentence were for fourteen year

And we were sent on board

The ship that bore us from

The land the Speedwell was her name

And full four months and upwards

We ploughed accross the raging main

No land no harbour could we see

And believe it is no lie

For around us one black water

And above us one blue sky

I oft-times looked behind me

Towards my native shore

And the cottage of contentment

That I shall see no more

Likewise my aged father who tore his hoary hair

Also my tender mother whose arms did once me bear

'Twas on the Fourth of July

The day we made the land

At four o'clock we went on shore

All chain-ed hand in hand

And to see our fellow sufferers

As I feel I can't tell how

Some chained unto a harrow and some unto a plough

So we were marched into the town

Without no more delay

And there a gentleman took me bookkeeper for to be

I took my occupation my master likes me well

My joys are out of measure

I am sure no one can tell

He kept a female servant Rosanna was her name

For fourteen year a convict from Worcestershire she came

And we oft-times tell our love tales

When we were so far at home

And now we are rattling of our chains

 

In foreign lands to roam