Текст и перевод песни Tri Yann - Marv Pontkallek (Bretagne)

Marv Pontkallek (Bretagne)

Version originale, la version Tri Yann est plus courte

I
Ur werzenn nevez zo savet
Traitour, ah! mallozh dit ′ta! (bis)
War markiz Pontkalleg eo graet
Traitour, ah! Mallozh dit, mallozh dit
Traitour, ah! mallozh dit 'ta

War markiz yaouank Pontkalleg, Traitour...
Ker koant, ken drant, ker kalonek!
Traitour, ah! Mallozh dit...

Mignon a oa d′ar Vretoned
Abalamour anezho oa deuet

Abalamour anezho oa deuet
Hag etrezo oa bet maget

Mignon a oa d'ar Vretoned
D'ar vourc′hizien ne lâran ket

D′ar vourc'hizien ne lâran ket
A zo a-du ar C′hallaoued

A zo atav 'klask gwaskañ re
N′o deus na madoù na leve

Nemet poan o divrec'h, noz-deiz,
Evit magañ o mammou dehe

Lakaet en devoa en e benn
Disammañ deomp-ni hor c′hordenn

Gwarizi-tag d'ar vourc'hizien
O klask an tu e′it hen dibenn

- Aotrou Markiz, aet da guzhet,
An tu a zo gante kavet!

II

Pellik zo emañ dianket;
Evit e glask, n′e gaver ket

Ur paour eus kêr, o klask e voued,
Hennezh en deus hen diskuliet

Ur c'houer n′her defe ket graet
Pa vije roet de'hañ pemp kant skoed

Gouel Maria ′n Eost, deiz evit deiz,
An dragoned oa war vale:

"Lâret-hu din-me, dragoned,
O klask ar Markiz emaoc'h bet?

- O klask ar Markiz emaomp bet
Daoust penaos emañ-eñ gwisket?

- Er c′hiz diwar-maez 'mañ gwisket,
Glas e vorled hag eñ bordet

Glas e jak, ha gwenn e chupenn;
Bodroù ler ha bragoù lien

Un togig plouz neudennet-ruz
War e skoaz, ur pennad blev-du

Ur gouriz-ler, div bistolenn,
Hag hi a Vro-Spagn, a-zaou denn

Gantañ dilhad pilhoù-huan,
Gant unan alaouret dindan

"Mar fell deoc'h-hu reiñ din tri skoed
Me a roy deoc′h-hu e gavet

- Tri gwenneg zoken na roimp ket,
Taolioù sabren ne lâromp ket

Ne roimp ket zoken pemp gwenneg
Ha te reiñ deomp kaout Pontkalleg

- Dragoned ker, en an′ Doue!
Na it ket d'ober droug din-me!

Na it ket d′ober droug din-me
Ho heñchañ raktal e rin-me

'Mañ-eñ du-se, er sal, ouzh taol,
O leinañ gant person Lignol"

III

"Aotrou Markiz, tec′het, tec'het!
Me wel erru an dragoned

Me wel an dragoned erru
Sternoù lugernus, dilhad ruz

- Me na gredan ket em c′halon
E krogfe ennon un dragon

Ne gredan ket 'vez deut ar c'hiz
Ma krog an dragon er Markiz"

Oa ket e gomz peurachuet
Tre ′barzh ar sal o deus lammet

Hag eñ da beg ′n e bistolenn:
"Neb a dost ouzhin 'n defo ′n tenn!"

Ar person kozh, dal m'her gwelas,
Dirak ar markiz ′n em strinkas:

"En anv Doue, ho Salvez,
Na dennet ket, ma Aotrou ker!"

Pa glevas anv hor Salver
En deus gouzañvet gant douster

Anv hor Salver pa glevas
Daoust d'e spered eñ a ouelas

Rez e galon strakas e zent
Ken a droc′has, sonn: "Deomp d'an hent!"

A-dreuz parrez Lignol pa ae
Ar gouer paour a lavare,

Lâret a rae al Lignoliz:
"Pec'hed eo eren ar markiz!"

Pa ae e-biou parrez Berne
Digoue′t ur frapad bugale:

"Mad-deo′ch, mad-deoc'h, Aotrou Markiz!
Ni ya d′ar vourc'h, d′ar c'hatekiz

- Kenavo, bugaligoù vat,
N′ho kwelo mui ma daoulagad

- Da belec'h it eta, Aotrou;
Ha dont na reot souden en-dro?

- Me na ouzon ket, Doue 'r goar;
Bugale baour, me zo war var"

O cherisañ en defe graet
Panevet e zaouarn ereet

Kriz vije ′r galon na ranne
Re ′n dragoned zoken a rae

Paotred-a-vrezel, koulskoude,
O deus kalonoù kriz enne

Ha pa oa digoue't e Naoned
E oa barnet ha kondaonet

Kondaonet, naren d′an tud-par,
Nemet tud koue'et diouzh lost ar c′harr

Da Bontkalleg 'deus int lâret:
"Aotrou Markiz, petra ′peus graet?

- Pezh a oa dleet din da ober
Ha graet-hu ivez ho micher!"

IV

D'ar sul kentañ pask, hevlene,
Oa kaset kannad da Verne

"Yec'hed mat deoc′h-holl, er gêr-mañ,
Pelec′h 'mañ ar person dre-mañ?

- ′Mañ o lâret e oferenn,
'Mañ o vonet gant ar bregenn"

Pa oa o vonet d′ar gador,
Oa roet de'hañ ul li′her el levr

Ne oa ket gouest evit e lenn
Gant an daeloù dimeus e benn:

"Petra zo c'hoarvet a nevez
Pa ouel ar person er c'hiz-se?

- Gouelañ a ran, ma bugale,
War pezh a refac′h-c′hwi ivez

Marv, peorien, neb ho mage,
Neb ho kwiske, neb ho harpe,

Marv an hini ho kare,
Berneviz, koulz eveldon-me

Marv neb a gare e vro
Hag her reas betek ar marv

Marv da zaou vloaz warn-ugent
'Vel ar verzherien hag ar sent

Doue, ho pet outañ truez!
Marv eo ′n Aotrou! Marv eo ma mouezh!"

Le sujet
1

Un chant nouveau a été composé, il a été fait sur le marquis de Pontcalec;
- Toi qui l'as trahi, sois maudit sois maudit! Toi qui l′as trahi, sois maudit! -
Sur le jeune marquis de Pontcalec, si beau, si gai, si plein de coeur!
- Toi qui l'as trahi, sois maudit! sois maudit! etc.
Il aimait les Bretons, car il était né d′eux;
- Toi qui l'as trahi, sois maudit! soit maudit! etc.
Car il était né d'eux, et avait été élevé au milieu d′eux.
Il aimait les Bretons, mais non pas les bourgeois;
Mais non pas les bourgeois qui sont tous du parti français;
Qui sont toujours cherchant à nuire à ceux qui n′ont ni bien ni rentes,
A ceux qui n'ont que la peine de leurs deux bras, jour et nuit, pour nourrir leurs mères.
Il avait formé le projet de nous décharger de notre faix;
Grand sujet de dépit pour les bourgeois qui cherchaient l′occasion de le faire décapiter.
- Seigneur marquis, cachez-vous vite, cette occasion, ils l'ont trouvée! -

II

Voilà longtemps qu′il est perdu; on a beau le chercher, on ne le trouve pas.
Un gueux de la ville, qui mendiait son pain, est celui qui l'a dénoncé;
Un paysan ne l′eût pas trahi, quand on lui eût offert cinq cents écus.
C'était la fête de Notre-Dame des moissons, jour pour jour; les dragons étaient en campagne:
- Dites-moi, dragons, n'êtes-vous pas en quête du marquis?
- Nous sommes en quête du marquis; sais-tu comment il est vêtu?
- Il est vêtu à la mode de la campagne: surtout bleu orné de broderies;
Soubreveste bleue et pourpoint blanc; guêtres de cuir et braies de toile;
Petit chapeau de paille tissu de fils rouges; sur ses épaules, de longs cheveux noirs;
Ceinture de cuir avec deux pistolets espagnols à deux coups.
Ses habits sont de grosse étoffe, mais dessous il en a de dorés.
Si vous voulez me donner trois écus, je vous le ferai trouver.
- Nous ne te donnerons pas même trois sous; des coups de sabre, c′est différent;
Nous ne te donnerons pas même trois sous, et tu nous feras trouver Pontcalec.
- Chers dragons, au nom de Dieu, ne me faites point de mal:
Ne me faites point de mal, je vais vous mettre tout de suite sur ses traces:
Il est là-bas, dans la salle du presbytère, à table, avec le recteur de Lignol.

III

Seigneur marquis, fuyez! fuvez! voici les dragons qui arrivent!
Voici les dragons qui arrivent: armures brillantes, habits rouges.
- Je ne puis croire qu′un dragon ose porter la main sur moi;
Je ne puis croire que l'usage soit venu que les dragons portent la main sur les marquis! -
Il n′avait pas fini de parler qu'ils avaient envahi la salle.
Et lui de saisir ses pistolets:
- Si quelqu′un s'approche, je tire! -
Voyant cela, le vieux recteur se jeta aux genoux du marquis:
- Au nom de Dieu, votre Sauveur, ne tirez pas, mon cher seigneur!
A ce nom de notre Sauveur, qui a souffert patiemment;
A ce nom de notre Sauveur, ses larmes coulèrent malgré lui;
Contre sa poitrine ses dents claquèrent; mais, se redressant, il s′écria: " Partons! "
Comme il traversait la paroisse de Lignol, les pauvres paysans disaient,
Ils disaient, les habitants de Lignol: - C'est grand péché de garrotter le marquis! -
Comme il passait près de Berné, arriva une bande d'enfants:
- Bonjour, bonjour, monsieur le marquis: nous allons au bourg, au catéchisme.
- Adieu, mes bons petits enfants, je ne vous verrai plus jamais!
- Et où allez-vous donc, seigneur? est-ce que vous ne reviendrez pas bientôt? - Je n′en sais rien, Dieu seul le sait: pauvres petits, je suis en danger. -
Il eût voulu les caresser, mais ses mains étaient enchaînées.
Dur eût été le coeur qui ne se fût pas ému; les dragons eux-mêmes pleuraient;
Et cependant les gens de guerre ont des coeurs durs dans leurs poitrines.
Quand il arriva à Nantes, il fut jugé et condamné,
Condamné, non pas par ses pairs, mais par des gens tombés de derrière les carrosses.
Ils demandèrent à Pontcalec: - Seigneur marquis, qu′avez-vous fait?
- J'ai fait mon devoir; faites votre métier! -

IV

Le premier dimanche de Pâques, de cette année, un message est arrivé à Berné. - Bonne santé à vous tous, en ce bourg; où est le recteur par ici?
- Il est à dire la grand′messe, voilà qu'il va commencer le prône -
Comme il montait en chaire, on lui remit une lettre dans son livre:
Il ne pouvait la lire, tant ses yeux se remplissaient de larmes.
- Qu′est-il arrivé de nouveau, que le recteur pleure ainsi?
- Je pleure, mes enfants, pour une chose qui vous fera pleurer vous-mêmes:
Il est mort, chers pauvres, celui qui vous nourrissait, qui vous vêtissait, qui vous soutenait;
Il est mort celui qui vous aimait, habitants de Berné, comme je vous aime;
Il est mort celui qui aimait son pavs, et qui l'a aimé jusqu′à mourir pour lui;
Il est mort à vingt-deux ans, comme meurent les martyrs et les saints.
Mon Dieu, avez pitié de son âme! le seineur est mort! ma voix meurt!
- Toi qui l'as trahi, sois maudit! sois maudit! Toi qui l'as trahi, sois maudit!

Death of Pontkallek (Brittany)

Original version, the Tri Yann version is shorter

I
A new song has been composed
Traitor, ah! Curse you! (repeat)
It is made on the marquis of Pontkalleg
Traitor, ah! Curse you, curse you
Traitor, ah! Curse you!

On the young marquis of Pontkalleg, Traitor...
So handsome, so gallant, so brave!
Traitor, ah! Curse you...

He was a friend of the Bretons
For their sake he had come

For their sake he had come
And among them he had been raised

He was a friend of the Bretons
To the bourgeois I do not say

To the bourgeois I do not say
Who are on the side of the French

Who are always trying to oppress those
Who have neither goods nor income

Except the pain of their two arms, day and night,
To feed their dear mothers

He had put it in his head
To untie our rope for us

Great anger to the bourgeois
Looking for a way to end him

- Lord Marquis, go and hide,
The way has been found by them!

II

He has been missing for a long time;
In vain we search for him, he is not found

A pauper of the city, looking for his food,
He has denounced him

A peasant would not have done it
Even if he were given five hundred crowns

Feast of Mary in August, day for day,
The dragoons were on the march:

"Tell me, dragoons,
Have you been looking for the Marquis?

- We have been looking for the Marquis
Do you know how he is dressed?

- In the country fashion he is dressed,
Blue his jacket and embroidered

Blue his jacket, and white his shirt;
Leather gaiters and linen breeches

A little hat of red knitted straw
On his shoulder, a lock of black hair

A leather belt, two pistols,
And she from Spain, with two shots

With him clothes of coarse cloth,
With a gilded one underneath

"If you want to give me three crowns
I will give you his location

- We will not give even three pennies,
We will not throw saber blows

We will not give even five pennies
And you will give us Pontkalleg

- Dear dragoons, in God's name!
Do not harm me!

Do not harm me
I will lead you to him right away

He is over there, in the room, at the table,
Having lunch with the priest of Lignol"

III

"Lord Marquis, run, run!
I see the dragoons arriving

I see the dragoons arriving
Shiny armor, red clothes

- I do not believe in my heart
That a dragon would grab me

I do not believe that the time has come
For the dragon to grab the Marquis"

His words were not finished
They jumped into the room

And he to the tip of his pistol:
"Whoever comes near me will have a shot!"

The old priest, as soon as he saw it,
Threw himself at the feet of the marquis:

"In the name of God, your Savior,
Do not shoot, my dear Lord!"

When he heard the name of our Savior
He suffered with sweetness

When he heard the name of our Savior
Despite his spirit, he cried

The strength of his heart tightened his teeth
So much that he shouted, "Let's go!"

As he passed through the parish of Lignol
The poor peasant said,

The people of Lignol said:
"It is a sin to arrest the marquis!"

When he passed near Berné
A group of children arrived:

"Good morning, good morning, Lord Marquis!
We are going to the village, to catechism

- Goodbye, good little children,
You will never see my eyes again

- Where are you going then, Lord;
And will you not come back soon?

- I do not know, God knows;
Poor children, I am in danger"

He would have liked to caress them
But his hands were chained

The heart would be hard not to break
Even the dragoons did

Soldiers, however,
They have hard hearts in them

And when he arrived in Nantes
He was judged and condemned

Condemned, not by his peers,
Only people fallen from the back of the carriage

To Pontkalleg they said:
"Lord Marquis, what have you done?

- What I had to do
And you too do your job!"

IV

On the first Sunday of Easter, that year,
A messenger was sent to Verne

"Good health to you all, in this house,
Where is the priest around here?

- He is saying his mass,
He is going to the pulpit"

As he was going to the chair,
He was given a letter in the book

He was not able to read it
With the tears running down his face:

"What has happened anew
That the priest cries like this?

- I cry, my children,
For what you will cry for too

Dead, poor people, the one who raised you,
Who clothed you, who supported you,

Dead the one who loved you,
People of Berné, as I love you

Dead the one who loved his country
And who loved her until death

Dead at twenty-two years old
Like the martyrs and the saints

God, have pity on his soul!
The Lord is dead! My voice is dead!"

The subject
1

A new song has been composed, it was made on the marquis of Pontcalec;
- You who betrayed him, be cursed, be cursed! You who betrayed him, be cursed! -
On the young marquis of Pontcalec, so handsome, so gallant, so brave!
- You who betrayed him, be cursed, be cursed! etc.
He loved the Bretons, for he was born of them;
- You who betrayed him, be cursed, be cursed! etc.
For he was born of them, and had been raised among them.
He loved the Bretons, but not the bourgeois;
But not the bourgeois who are all on the French side;
Who are always seeking to harm those who have neither wealth nor income,
Those who have only the labor of their two arms, day and night, to feed their mothers.
He had formed the project to relieve us of our burden;
Great cause of spite for the bourgeois who sought the opportunity to have him beheaded.
- Lord Marquis, hide yourself quickly, this opportunity, they have found it! -

II

He has been missing for a long time; we search for him in vain, he is not found.
A beggar of the city, who was begging for his bread, is the one who denounced him;
A peasant would not have betrayed him, even if he had been offered five hundred crowns.
It was the feast of Our Lady of the Harvest, day for day; the dragoons were on campaign:
- Tell me, dragoons, are you not in search of the marquis?
- We are in search of the marquis; do you know how he is dressed?
- He is dressed in the country fashion: a blue coat adorned with embroidery;
A blue doublet and a white waistcoat; leather gaiters and linen breeches;
A small hat of straw woven with red threads; on his shoulders, long black hair;
A leather belt with two Spanish pistols, each with two shots.
His clothes are of coarse cloth, but underneath he has golden ones.
If you are willing to give me three crowns, I will lead you to him.
- We will not give you even three pennies; blows of the saber, that's another matter;
We will not give you even three pennies, and you will lead us to Pontcalec.
- Dear dragoons, in God's name, do not harm me:
Do not harm me, I will put you on his trail immediately:
He is over there, in the room of the presbytery, at the table, having lunch with the rector of Lignol.

III

Lord Marquis, flee! flee! Here come the dragoons!
Here come the dragoons: shining armor, red clothes.
- I cannot believe that a dragon would dare to lay a hand on me;
I cannot believe that the time has come for dragons to lay hands on marquises! -
He had not finished speaking when they had invaded the room.
And he seized his pistols:
- If anyone comes near me, I will fire! -
Seeing this, the old rector threw himself at the feet of the marquis:
- In the name of God, your Savior, do not shoot, my dear Lord!
At this name of our Savior, who suffered patiently;
At this name of our Savior, his tears flowed despite himself;
Against his chest his teeth chattered; but, straightening up, he cried: "Let us go!"
As he was passing through the parish of Lignol, the poor peasants said,
They said, the inhabitants of Lignol: - It is a great sin to bind the marquis! -
As he was passing near Berné, a group of children arrived:
- Good morning, good morning, Lord Marquis! We are going to the village for catechism.
- Farewell, my good little children, I will never see you again!
- And where are you going then, Lord? Will you not return soon? - I do not know, God only knows: poor little ones, I am in danger. -
He would have liked to caress them, but his hands were chained.
Hard would be the heart that was not moved; even the dragoons were weeping;
And yet men of war have hard hearts within their chests.
When he arrived in Nantes, he was judged and condemned,
Condemned, not by his peers, but by people who had fallen from the back of carriages.
They asked Pontcalec: - Lord Marquis, what have you done?
- I have done my duty; do your job! -

IV

On the first Sunday of Easter, that year, a message arrived in Berné. - Good health to all of you, in this town; where is the rector around here?
- He is saying high mass, he is about to begin the sermon -
As he was going up to the pulpit, a letter was handed to him in his book:
He could not read it, so much did his eyes fill with tears.
- What has happened anew, that the rector is weeping like this?
- I weep, my children, for something that will make you weep yourselves:
He is dead, my poor people, the one who fed you, who clothed you, who supported you;
He is dead, the one who loved you, inhabitants of Berné, as I love you;
He is dead, the one who loved his country, and who loved her until death;
He died at twenty-two years old, as martyrs and saints die.
My God, have pity on his soul! The Lord is dead! My voice is dead!"
- You who betrayed him, be cursed, be cursed! You who betrayed him, be cursed!