Thought for the Day (Dec 27)

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Dec 27)
From: Mbo
Date: 27 Dec 99 - 03:24 PM

Corbleu! I know I'd rather eat a snail than a kidney if I was obliged to pay pistole a pop for them!

--Mbo

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Dec 27)
From: McGrath of Harlow
Date: 27 Dec 99 - 02:45 PM

Would it be King Henry V she's marrying?

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Dec 27)
From: katlaughing
Date: 27 Dec 99 - 02:16 PM

LOL!

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Dec 27)
From: bseed(charleskratz)
Date: 27 Dec 99 - 02:13 PM

Katlaughing, aka Morticia Addams.

--seed

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Dec 27)
From: katlaughing
Date: 27 Dec 99 - 02:00 PM

Oh, gawd...I LOVE it when you speak French to me, it is SOOOO sexy.....!

katlaughinglangourously

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Dec 27)
From: Peter T.
Date: 27 Dec 99 - 12:24 PM

Actually, seed, the translation is prosaic and lousy, from laziness. The original has a fine beat to it. Actually I wonder if anyone knows any music to it (Le Mariage Anglais).
The original last verse goes:
Et quand ce vint sur la minuit,
Le belle n'est pas endormie:
"Retourne toi, embrasse moi,
Mon cher Anglois!
Puisque Dieu nous a assemblés,
Faut néanmoins aimer!"

Subject: RE: Thought for the Day (Dec 27)
From: bseed(charleskratz)
Date: 27 Dec 99 - 11:55 AM

Ah, yes, Peter--and I suppose she'd rather eat snails than kidney pie. If this is your translation, I'd change "everything" to "it all," and drop "each other"--a bit more kick to the line, but it's a delightful song. Pardon my presumption: I overresponded to Barry Finn's request for help with a song and haven't been able to kick the habit.

--seed

Subject: Thought for the Day (Dec 27)
From: Peter T.
Date: 27 Dec 99 - 10:13 AM

An old French Ballad, just for fun.

MARRYING AN ENGLISHMAN

It was the French king's daughter,
Was going to marry an Englishman --
"O, my brothers, don't let them marry me off!
I'd rather marry a French soldier,
Than the king of England himself!"

And when the wedding day came round,
She had to pass through Paris,
And all the women of France did weep,
To see the French king's daughter,
Going away with an Englishman.

And when they came to go on board,
He wanted to blindfold her eyes --
"Blindfold your own damn eyes, maudit Anglais:
If I must cross the Goddammed channel, I'll look at the damn thing."

And when they came to land,
There were drums and fiddles on every side --
"Go away, you drummers and fiddlers,
You are not French oboes, the music of France!"

And when supper came,
He wanted to cut bread for her --
"Cut your own bread, if you can call this bread,
Maudit Anglais!
When I look at you I have no appetite."

And when it came time to go to bed,
The Englishman began to remove her stockings --
"Take off your own damn stockings,
Maudit Anglais, and leave me alone!
I have people of my own country
Whose fine hands can do that for me." And when it came to be midnight,
The lady was still not asleep --
"Oh turn back around,
Oh kiss me, my dear Englishman,
God seems to have brought us together
To love each other in spite of everything."