I had to look to see if Curmudgeon had ever posted to this thread, but I guess he hadn't.
As you know, most recorded versions of the song don't have seven nights' worth of verses. Back in the '70s and early '80s there was an older Newfie gentleman named John who lived over on Lucas Pond in Northwood, NH. According to Tom, John knew all seven verses and even sang them once in Tom's hearing (but Tom had probably had a drop taken and didn't write them down). John never sang the full song again in Tom's hearing (and may not even have sung the song again at musical gatherings where Tom was present).
John's wife and children were "good Christians" so John couldn't sing the song where they might find out that he had sung it.
Does anyone else have problems locating the break in the portmaneau word "weeknights"? I insist on seeing small men in armour, which of course means the missus must be Snow White...
Lighter, There is a similarity with both melodies but I think probably it was Joe Heaney, not Seamus. John Sheahan would know as he is the only one of the original Dubliners still alive.
'John Sheahan would know as he is the only one of the original Dubliners still alive.'
Arguably, and he'd be the first to point that out, Sheahan joined the Dubliners when they were well up and running so was not part of the 'original' line-up.
Thanks, folks. Presumably "Joe Heaney" is correct.
But here's what Mary Hardy says in her, um, chilling introduction to "More Dubliners Songs" (1979):
"The folk purists are, to this day, arguing about the origins of Seven Drunken Nights which took the Dubliners into the pop charts more than ten years ago. Seamus Heaney who gave it to them always insisted that the song concerned, not an unfaithful wife, but in fact a man who on returning home after some twenty years roaming the world in search of fame and fortune (the time honoured migration theme again), finds a fully-grown son, whose existence he'd never even suspected sharing the family bed.
"Even the most cursory study of social history will show that that is not in the least far-fetched."
Yeah...right....
But whether "Joe" or "Seamus," if the original singer had actually advanced such a theory, surely he could not have known the final two stanzas in any form.
Which would be just one *more* reason why Ronnie Drew never sang them.
I'm starting to think, by the way, that the resemblance of the tune to "Dear Old Donegal" may be trivial after all.
I see Jack Campin gave a link to a Yiddish version of the song back in 2014. I copied the lyrics and translation of that song from a booklet of a Ruth Rubin concert https://www.yivo.org/cimages/12-23-18_song_book.pdf
KUM IKH TSU MAYN GELIBTER FROY
As sung by Shmerke Kaczerginski, New York, 1948
Kum ikh tsu mayn gelibter froy, gefin ikh eyns un tsvey: In kikh shteyen shtivl: eyns-tsvey-dray! Freg ikh bay mayn gelibter froy: “Vos far a shtivl zenen zey?” Entfert zi mir: “Shtekshikhlekh, Di mame shikt mir zey.”
Shtekshikhlekh, mit hoykhe kholevkes, Oy vey, dos harts tut mir vey. Az ikh bin dayn man, tsu vos badarfstu zey? Kum ikh tsu mayn gelibter froy, gefin ikh eyns un tsvey: Afn vant hengen shverdn: eyns-tsvey-dray! Freg ikh bay mayn gelibter froy: “Vos far a shverdn zenen zey?”
Entfert zi mir: “Hakmesers, di mame shikt mir zey.” Hakmesers, mit lange frendzelekh, Oy vey, dos harts tut mir vey. Az ikh bin dayn man, tsu vos badarfstu zey? Kum ikh tsu mayn gelibter froy, gefin ikh eyns un tsvey: In bet lign kepelekh: eyns-tsvey-dray! Freg ikh bay mayn gelibter froy: “Vos far a kepelekh zenen zey? ” Entfert zi mir: “Kinderlekh, di mame shikt mir zey.” Kinderlekh, mit shvartse vontselekh, Oy vey, dos harts tut mir vey. Az ikh bin dayn man, tsu vos badarfstu zey? translationL I COME TO MY BELOVED WIFE
I come to my beloved wife and find out right away: Boots standing in the kitchen: one-two-three! I ask my beloved wife: “What’s with the boots?” She answers, “They are slippers, Which Mother sent to me.” Slippers with high tops, Oh woe, my heart is in pain, If I am your husband, what do you need them for?
I come to my beloved wife and find out right away: Swords hanging on the wall: one-two-three! I ask my beloved wife: “What’s with the swords?” She answers, “They are chopping knives, Which Mother sent to me.” Chopping knives, with long tassels, Oh woe, my heart is in pain, If I am your husband, what do you need them for?
I come to my beloved wife and find out right away: Heads lying in the bed: one-two-three! I ask my beloved wife: “What’s with the heads?” She answers, “They are children, which Mother sent to me.” Children, with black moustaches, Oh woe, my heart is in pain, If I am your husband, what do you need them for?
“Dos Daytshl” (“The German Guy”) as sung by Lifshe Schaechter-Widman [LSW] (see previous posts for her biography https://yiddishsong.wordpress.com/2010/02/24/finster-glitshik-by-lifshe-schaechter-widman/) is linguistically the most complicated song yet posted.
The comic ballad is international and found in many languages and is known in the Child canon as “Our Goodman” (#274). The texts have remained remarkably similar through time and languages. My folklore professor at the University of Pennsylvania, Kenneth Goldstein, played us a field recording he had made of African-American kids in West Philadelphia singing a rap version of this ballad and the words were almost the exact ones as the Yiddish lyrics LSW sings.
In The Folks Songs of Ashkenaz (pp. 139 – 142) edited by Philip V. Bohlman and Otto Holzapfel (2001), the editors make an interesting comparison of a Yiddish version found in the Ginsburg-Marek collection to a German version collected in German colonies in southern Russia. Unfortunately, they only compare the texts, though several Yiddish versions with melodies have been printed (for example, one melody of a Yiddish version exists in Yidisher folklor, YIVO 1938). Their brief history of the ballad indicates that the German versions of the song came from a Scottish variant in late 19th century, and after it was published in a German almanac in 1790 it circulated much more widely.
There are many printed Yiddish versions of the song, most recently in Yiddish Folksongs from the Ruth Rubin Archive (p. 30-31) edited by Chana Mlotek and Mark Slobin. Their introduction refers to other printed Yiddish versions. On the Yiddish ballad in comparison to other international versions read Chana Mlotek’s “International Motifs in the Yiddish Ballad” in For Max Weinriech on his Seventieth Birthday. The Yiddish ballad was still popular into the 1930s in Eastern Europe.
Since LSW comes from the Bukovina, where Jews were fluent in Yiddish and German, the German element in the song has to be analyzed not just as Germanisms in a Yiddish text, but as to what these German words evoke when sung by a Yiddish folksinger who is performing a comic song making fun of a German. Does the singing of “Eyns, tsvey, drey” and not “dray” which would be the correct form in both Yiddish and German, indicate a funny hypercorrection of a German based word in Yiddish?
Of course, it’s not just any German being made fun of here, but a German peasant or farmer. The Germanisms also imply that such a song about a cuckold would “never” be sung about a Jewish husband and wife. Since LSW usually sings slow mournful songs it’s refreshing to hear her sing a comic song with such gusto and drama.
Monique sang this last Monday at the Mudcat Worldwide singaround, and I was blown away by the similarity of this song to "Our Goodman." I was surprised that Child made no mention of this song. It sure was fun to hear it.
10 Oct 22 - 02:23 PM (#4154634) Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English From: Monique
LA ESPOSA INFIEL (Spanish)
Estaba una señorita sentadita en su balcón, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón sentadita en su balcón.
Esperando que pasara el segundo batallón, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón el segundo batallón.
Pasó por allí un soldado de muy mala condición, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón de muy mala condición.
- Suba, suba, caballero, dormirá una noche o dos, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón dormirá una noche o dos.
Mi marido está de caza en los montes de León, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón en los montes de León.
Y para que no regrese, le echaré una maldición, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón le echaré una maldición.
Que se caiga del caballo y muera sin confesión, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón y muera sin confesión.
Estando en estas palabras, el maridito llamó, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón el maridito llamó:
- Ábreme la puerta luna, ábreme la puerta sol, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón ábreme la puerta sol.
Que te traigo un conejito de los montes de León, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón de los montes de León.
Bajaba por la escalera, cambiadita de color, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón cambiadita de color.
Al entrar en el portal, el marido preguntó, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón el marido preguntó:
¿De quién es aquella capa que en mi percha veo yo, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón que en mi percha veo yo?
- Tuya, tuya, maridito, que te la he comprado yo, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón que te la he comprado yo.
- ¿De quién es aquel sombrero que en mi percha veo yo, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón que en mi percha veo yo?
- Tuyo, tuyo, maridito, que te lo he comprado yo, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón que te lo he comprado yo.
Se fueron para la cama, y una cabeza encontró, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón y una cabeza encontró.
- ¿De quién es esa cabeza que en mi cama veo yo, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón que en mi cama veo yo?
- Del niño de la vecina que en mis brazos se durmió, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón que en mis brazos se durmió.
- Caramba con el chiquillo, tiene barba como yo, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón tiene barba como yo.
Le cogió por la cabeza, le tiró por el balcón, que que con el oritín, que que con el oritón le tiró por el balcón.
THE UNFAITHFULL WIFE
There was a young lady sitting on her balcony, with the oritin, with the oriton* sitting on her balcony.
Waiting for the second battalion to pass…
A soldier passed by there, in very poor condition…
"Come up, come up, sir, you'll sleep a night or two…
My husband is hunting in the mountains of Leon…
And so that he doesn't come back, I'll put a curse on him…
Let him fall from his horse and die without confession…"
As she was saying these words, the hubby called…
"Open the door for me, [my] moon, open the door for me, [my] sun…
I bring you a bunny from the mountains of Leon…"
She went down the stairs, with her complexion changed…
Entering the door, the husband asked…
"Whose cape is that, that I see on my hanger…?"
"Yours, yours, hubby, I bought it for you…"
"Whose hat is that, that I see on my hanger…?"
"Yours, yours, hubby, I bought it for you…"
They went towards the bed, and he found a head…
"Whose head is that, that I see in my bed…?"
"To the neighbor's child who fell asleep in my arms…"
"Oh, what a little boy, he has a beard like me…"
He grabbed her** by the head, [he] threw her** off the balcony…
*This has no meaning. **There's no way to know for sure if it's "her" or "him" as "le" can be either in Spanish. In other versions, the husband throws her ("la") off the balcony but in others he grabs "le" by the moustache, so it can only be the lover.
You can find 126 versions of this ballad in Spanish, Catalan and Portuguese on Pan-Hispanic Ballad Project, University of Washington. I find that this version lacks a 4th line in which the soldier tells her he'd like to sleep with her, which better explain "Come up, come up, sir, you'll sleep a night or two". I find some versions kind of funny as the husband takes his wife to give her back to her father but the father gives him some "Now-it's-not-my-business" answer and in others versions he kills her but dies an hour later and the lover "as a scoundrel, remained in bed". All that for this!
10 Oct 22 - 04:22 PM (#4154649) Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English From: leeneia
Hi, Monique. When I heard you sing this song, with its jaunty melody and its jaunt "que que que," I knew I had heard it somewhere else. Finally it came to me - it's on an album of French Canadian music I have had for many years.
I think the last verse doesn't really belong. It's too mean for the rest of the song.
10 Oct 22 - 05:52 PM (#4154656) Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Mudcat singaround songs NOT in English From: Monique
Oh yes it does! Have a look at these versions on "Pan-Hispanic Ballad Project" by the University of Washington. In many versions the wife says "Kill me as I deserve it" and the husband does kill her -usually by stabbing her. He sometimes stabs her without "her permission"!
Subject: RE: ADD Versions: Seven Drunken Nights-languages From:Monique Date: 14 Oct 22 - 03:04 AM
I'd never come across this thread before. The French version that Joe posted above on this post was penned by New Zealand-born "French" singer Graeme Allwright in 1966. Graeme Allwright adapted/translated into French many English-language songs.
sung by Big Jim at the Duke of Albany, Park Street Weymouth
Oh when I cam home on Sat'day night, Drunk as drunk could be There was a great big between her legs, where my oould man should be I calls me wife and sez to her, kindly tell to me Who owns that great big willy thats pointing up at me
Oh yer drunk ! yer drunk! You silly ould fool! Still you cannot see That's a lovely banana that me mother sent to me Oh its many a day I travelled - a hundred miles or more But pubic hairs upon a banana - I never saw that before.
sj