Rocky Road To Dublin
|The Rocky Road To Dublin|
|En aragonés||O petroso camín enta Dublín|
|Canción tradicional irlandesa|
|The Dubliners, The Pogues, The Rolling Stones y The Chieftains|
|The Dubliners||(▶Audición 1)|
Cuenta a historia y escaicimientos d'un choven y desventurato emigrant irlandés qui marcha dende o suyo lugar de Tuam por o petroso camín que marcha enta Dublin en el que li furtan o paramento, dende on marcha en barco enta Liverpool, ta rematar ficau en una baralla con a chent d'o lugar.
Left the girls of Tuam so nearly broken hearted,
Saluted Father dear, kissed me darling mother,
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother,
Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born,
Cut a stout blackthorn to banish ghosts and goblins;
In a brand new pair of brogues to rattle o'er the bogs
And frighten all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin,
One two three four five,
Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road
And all the way to Dublin, Whack fol la de rah!
In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary
Started by daylight next morning bright and early
Took a drop of the pure to keep me heart from sinking;
That's a Paddy's cure whenever he's on drinking
See the lassies smile, laughing all the while
At me darlin' style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin'
Asked me was I hired, wages I required
Till I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin,
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it be a pity
To be soon deprived a view of that fine city.
Decided to take a stroll, all among the quality;
Me bundle it was stole, all in a neat locality.
Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind,
No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin'
Enquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue
Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin,
From there I got away, me spirits never falling,
Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing.
The Captain at me roared, said that no room had he;
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy.
Down among the pigs, played some funny rigs,
Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling;
When off to Holyhead wished meself was dead,
Or better far instead on the rocky road to Dublin,
The boys of Liverpool, when we were safely landed,
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it.
Blood began to boil, temper I was losing;
Poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing.
"Hurrah me soul!" says I, let the shillelagh fly.
Some Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a hobble in,
With a loud "hurray!" joined in the fray.
Quickly cleared the way on the rocky road to Dublin,