Текст и перевод песни Corvus Corax - Ballade de Mercy

Ballade de Mercy

A Chartreux et a Celestins,
A Mendians et a Devottes,
A musars et claquepatins,
A servans et filles mignottes,
Portans surcortz es justes cottes,
A cuidereaux d'amours transis,
Chauçans sans mehain fauves boctes,
Je crie a toutes gens mercis.

A fillettes monstrans tetins,
Pour avoir plus largement hostes,
A ribleurs mouveurs de hutins,
A bateleurs traynans marmottes
A folz er folles, sotz et sottes,
Qui s'en vont siflant six a six,
A marmosetz et mariottes,
Je crie a toutes gens mercis.

Si non aux traistres chiens mastins
Qui m'ont fait rongier dures crostes
Et maschier, mains soirs et matins,
Qu'ores ja ne crains pas trois crottes.
Je feisse pour eulx petz et rottes;
Je ne puis, car je suis assis.
Au fort, pour eviter riottes,
Je crie a toutes gens mercis.

Qu'on leur froisse les quinze costes
De gros mailletz, fors et massis,
De plombees et telz pelottes.
Je crie a toutes gens mercis.

Translation from old French:

To the Carthusian and to the Celestine,
To the beggars and to the pious,
To the lechers and to the prowlers,
To the servants and the pretty maids,
Wearing great coats and curt plaids,
To the wiseacres in unreturned love
Strutting in stinking boots,
I am screaming for forgiveness.

To the young girls showing their breasts
To lure more customers,
To the crooks raising rows,
To the tricksters milking fat rats,
To the weirdoes and fools and mad women
Walking away whistling in groups of six,
To the tots and the lassies,
I am screaming for forgiveness.

But not to the perfidious cops
Who made me gnaw on hard scat,
Humiliated me in the evening and in the morning – over and over again,
So that I don't dread the dirt any more.
I want to fart and belch at them,
But I can't since I'm sitting.
To avoid the conflict
I scream for forgiveness.

Someone shall break their fifteen ribs
With large hammers, adamant and heavy,
With halberds and similar weapons. Then I will beg even them for mercy.

Ballade de Mercy

To the Carthusians and the Celestines,
To the beggars and the devout,
To the lechers and the loiterers,
To the servants and the pretty girls,
Wearing overcoats and tight waists,
To the wiseacres in unrequited love,
Walking in stinking boots without blemish,
I am crying out to all people for mercy.

To young girls showing their breasts,
To get more customers,
To crooks stirring up trouble,
To tricksters milking fat rats,
To weirdos and fools and mad women,
Walking away whistling in groups of six,
To the tots and the lassies,
I am crying out to all people for mercy.

But not to the treacherous cops
Who made me gnaw on hard crusts,
And chew, many evenings and mornings,
So that now I no longer fear three turds.
I would make farts and burps for them,
But I can't, because I am sitting down.
To avoid conflict,
I am crying out to all people for mercy.

May their fifteen ribs be crushed
By heavy, solid mallets,
By lead weights and such pellets.
I am crying out to all people for mercy.

Translation from old French:

To the Carthusians and to the Celestine,
To the beggars and to the pious,
To the lechers and to the prowlers,
To the servants and the pretty maids,
Wearing great coats and curt plaids,
To the wiseacres in unreturned love
Strutting in stinking boots,
I am screaming for forgiveness.

To the young girls showing their breasts
To lure more customers,
To the crooks raising rows,
To the tricksters milking fat rats,
To the weirdoes and fools and mad women
Walking away whistling in groups of six,
To the tots and the lassies,
I am screaming for forgiveness.

But not to the perfidious cops
Who made me gnaw on hard scat,
Humiliated me in the evening and in the morning – over and over again,
So that I don't dread the dirt any more.
I want to fart and belch at them,
But I can't since I'm sitting.
To avoid the conflict
I scream for forgiveness.

Someone shall break their fifteen ribs
With large hammers, adamant and heavy,
With halberds and similar weapons. Then I will beg even them for mercy.