Paroles et traduction Paul Horbiger - Fiakerlied

Fiakerlied

1.I führ'zwaa harte Rapp'n, mei Zeig, des steht am Grab'n.
A so wie de zwei trab'n, wern's net viel g'sehen ham,
A Peitsch'n, na, des gibts net, o Jessas, nur net schlag'n!
Das höchste war a Schnalzer, sonst z'reissn's ma den Wag'n.
Vom Land zum Lusthaus fahr' ich's in zwölf Minuten hin,
Mir springt kaans dreine in Galopp, da geht's nur allweil trapp, trapp, trapp.
Und wann ich's siach so schiess'n, do g'spür ich's in mir drin,
Dass i di rechte Pratz'n hab', dass ich ein Fiaker bin!
A Kutscher, das kann jeder wer'n, aber fahr'n, des können's nur in Wean!

Refr: Mei Stolz is, i bin halt an echt's Weaner Kind, ein Fiaker wie man' net olle
Tag find'. Mei Blut is so lüftig, so leicht wia der Wind, aber i bin hoilt (Pfiff)
Ein echt's Weaner Kind.

2.Ich bin bald sechzig Jahr' alt, vierz'g Jahr steh' i am Stand,
Der Kutscher und sei Zeigl, war'n allweil fein beinand
Und kommt's einmal zum Abfahr'n, und werd' ich dann begrab'n,
So spannt's mer meine Rapp'n ein und führt's mich über'n Grab'n.
Da lasst's ihr's aber laufen, führt's mich im Trab hinaus,
I bitt' mer's aus, nur net im Schritt, nehmt's meinsweg'n auch a Kreuzung mit.
Das ist ein Muss, das Umzieh'n ins allerletzte Haus
Und d'Leit, die soll'n nur merken, an Fiaker führ' mer raus.
Und auf mei'm Grabstein, da soll steh'n -- damit die Leut' auch deutlich seh'n:

Refr: Sein Stolz war, er war halt an echt's Weaner Kind, ein Fiaker wie man' nicht
Alle Tag find'. Sei Bluatwar so lüftig, so leicht wie der Wind, (Pfiff)
Aber er war hoit (Pfiff) ein scht's Weaner Kind.

Fiakerlied

1.I drive two strong horses, my Fiaker stands at the edge of the grave.
The way they trot, they have not seen much,
A whip, no, that's not it, oh Jesus, just don't hit!
The most I could do was a snap, otherwise they'll tear my carriage apart.
From the countryside to the Lusthaus, I drive them in twelve minutes,
No one jumps in at a gallop, it's always just trot, trot, trot.
And when I see them rushing, I feel it within me,
That I have the right skills, that I am a Fiaker driver!
Anyone can become a coachman, but driving, they can only do in Vienna!

Chorus: My pride is that I am a genuine Viennese child, a Fiaker like you can't always
find. My blood is as airy, as light as the wind, but I am hoilt (whistle)
A genuine Viennese child.

2.I am almost sixty years old, I have been at the stand for forty years,
The coachman and his Fiaker, were always together
And when it comes time to depart, and I am buried,
Then harness my horses and lead me across the grave.
Let them run there, take me out at a trot,
I ask you, not at a walk, even take a shortcut if you like.
That is a must, moving into the very last house
And the people should just notice, a Fiaker driver is taking me out.
And on my tombstone, it should say -- so that people can clearly see:

Chorus: His pride was that he was a true Viennese child, a Fiaker like you can't
find every day. His blood was as airy, as light as the wind, (whistle)
But he was hoit (whistle) a genuine Viennese child.