I may as well add a full set, with its tune:
LE TRENTE ET UN DU MOIS D'AOUT
(French trad.)
Au trente et un du mois d'Août
Au trente et un du mois d'Août
On vit venir sous vent à nous
On vit venir sous vent à nous
Une frégate d'Angleterre
Qui fendait la mer-z-et les flots
C'était pour attaquer Bordeaux!
Refrain:
Buvons un coup, la la, buvons en deux,
A la santé des amoureux;
A la santé du Roi de France,
Et merde pour le Roi d'Angleterre,
Qui nous a déclaré la guerre.
Le commandant du bâtiment
Fit appeler son lieutenant:
"Lieutenant, te sens-tu capable,
Dis-moi, te sens-tu-z-assez fort
Pour prendre l'Anglais à son bord?"
Le lieutenant, fier et-z-hardi,
Lui répondit: "Captaine-z-oui,
Faites branlebas à l'équipage:
Je vas hisser notre pavillon,
Qui restera haut, nous le jurons."
Le maître donne un coup de sifflet
Pour faire monter les deux bordées:
Tout est paré pour l'abordage,
Hardis gabiers, fiers matelots,
Braves canonniers, mousses petiots.
Vire lof pour lof en arrivant:
Je l'abordions par son avant;
A coup de hache et de grenade,
De pieux, de sabre, de mousqueton,
En trois-cinq-sec je l'arrimions.
Que dira-t-on du grand raffiot,
A Brest, à Londres et à Bordeaux,
Qu'a laissé prendre son équipage
Par un corsaire de dix canons;
Lui qu'en avait trente et six bons!
THE THIRTY-FIRST OF AUGUST
(French trad.)
On the thirty-first of August
On the thirty-first of August
We saw approaching under sail
We saw approaching under sail
An English frigate
Cutting through the sea and the waves
In order to attack Bordeaux!
Chorus:
Let's drink a cup, la la, let's drink in two draughts,
To the health of truelovers;
To the health of the King of France,
And shit to the King of England,
Who has declared war on us.
The commander of the ship
Summoned his lieutenant:
"Lieutenant, do you feel able,
Do you feel strong enough
To board and take the Englishman?"
The proud and hardy lieutenant
Replied, "Yes, Captain;
Call all hands to their stations:
I shall hoist our colours,
Which will stay aloft, we swear it."
The master blew his whistle
To call all hands on deck:
All was made ready for the boarding,
Hardy topmen, proud sailors,
Brave gunners, wee cabinboys.
Turning our back to the wind as we came up,
I boarded her at her forepart;
With hatchet and grenade,
With pike, sabre and musketoon,
Quick as a flash I had her all in order.
What will they say of the great big tub,
In Brest, in London, and in Bordeaux,
That let its crew be taken
By a privateer with six cannon,
When it had thirty-six good ones!
From Le Livre des Chansons, Henri Davenson (Cahiers du Rhône, 1955.) Davenson did not always specify his sources, and gave no information in this case. The English is a fairly literal translation, one or two points of which may be interpreted a little differently. A midi of the tune given by Davenson goes to Mudcat Midis; meanwhile, as usual, it can be heard via the South Riding Folk Network site: