Roots in Music, Growth for a Future Together A collection of traditional Hungarian, French, Italian, Irish and Polish folk songs

2012

„Culture cannot be inherited. The culture of the ancestors evaporates in a second if the coming generations do not acquire it again and again. Only those things are

really ours, which we have worked hard for, maybe have suffered for it. The music is drifting to us, it survives in us if we plow our souls under it by playing music."

(Zoltán Kodály)

Érik a szőlő, hajlik a vessző, bodor a levele. Két szegénylegény szántani menne, de nincsen kenyere. Van vereshagyma a tarisznyába', keserű magába', Szolgalegénynek, hej, a szegénynek de kevés vacsora.

The grapes are growing ripe, the twigs are bending, their leaves are curling Two poor lads would go to plough But they have no bread.

There is onion in the satchel, It is bitter by itself, For the servant-boy, for poor lad, What a meagre supper.

Hej, Dunáról fúj a szél, Szegény embert mindig ér, Dunáról fúj a szél. Ha Dunáról nem fújna, Ilyen hideg se volna, Dunáról fúj a szél. Hej, Jancsika, Jancsika, Mért nem nőttél nagyobbra? Dunáról fúj a szél. Nőttél volna nagyobbra, Lettél volna katona, Dunáról fúj a szél.

Hey, the wind is blowing from the Danube, the poor man is living happily, the wind is blowing from the Danube, If it was not blowing from the Danube, it would not be this cold, the wind is blowing from the Danube.

Hey, Jancsika, Jancsika, you should have grown much taller, the wind is blowing from the Danube, If you had grown taller, you could have been a soldier, the wind is blowing from the Danube.

Margoton va-t-à l'eau avecque son cruchon (bis) La fontaine était creuse, elle est tombée au fond Aïe, Aïe, Aïe, Aïe, criait Margoton Par la passèrent trois jeunes et beaux garçons (bis) Que donneriez-vous la belle qu'on vous tire du fond ? Aïe, Aïe, Aïe, Aïe, disait Margoton Tirez d'abord, dit-elle, et alors nous verrons (bis)

Quand la belle fut tirée commence une chanson Aïe, Aïe, Aïe, Aïe, disait Margoton Ce n'est pas ça, la belle que nous vous demandons (bis) C'est votre cœur volage, savoir si nous l'aurons Aïe, Aïe, Aïe, Aïe, disait Margoton Mon petit coeur, Messir's, n'est pas pour greluchons ! (bis) L'est pour l’homme de guerre qu'a la barbe au menton Aïe, Aïe, Aïe, Aïe, disait Margoton

Margoton went to the well with her jar The well was deep, she fell to the bottom Woe, woe, woe, woe cried Margoton Margoton went to the well with her jar Three handsome lads passed by Woe, woe, woe, woe said Margoton Margoton went to the well with her jar What would you give us to pull you out, my beauty? Woe, woe, woe, woe said Margoton Margoton went to the well with her jar Pull me out first, then we'll see, said she Woe, woe, woe, woe said Margoton

Margoton went to the well with her jar When she was out, she began to sing Woe, woe, woe, woe said Margoton Margoton went to the well with her jar That's not what we want, my beauty Woe, woe, woe, woe said Margoton Margoton went to the well with her jar We want to know if we may have your heart Woe, woe, woe, woe said Margoton Margoton went to the well with her jar My heart is not for lovers to have, my lads Woe, woe, woe, woe said Margoton

Abbiamo posato chitarra e tamburi, perché questa musica deve cambiare. Siamo briganti, facciamo paura e con il fucile vogliamo cantare, e con il fucile vogliamo cantare. E ora cantiamo questa nuova canzone, tutta la gente la deve imparare. Ce ne freghiamo del re Borbone, la terra è nostra e non deve essere toccata, la terra è nostra e non deve essere toccata. Tutti i paesi della Basilicata si sono svegliati e vogliono lottare, pure la Calabria si è rivoltata; e questo nemico facciamo tremare, e questo nemico facciamo tremare.

Chi ha visto il lupo e si è spaventato, non sa ancora qual è la verità. Il vero lupo che mangia i bambini è il piemontese che dobbiamo cacciare, è il piemontese che dobbiamo cacciare.

Donne belle che date il cuore, se il brigante volete salvare non lo cercate, dimenticatene il nome; chi ci fa guerra non ha pietà, chi ci fa guerra non ha pietà. Uomo si nasce, brigante si muore, ma fino all'ultimo dobbiamo sparare. E se moriamo portate un fiore e una bestemmia per questa libertà, e una bestemmia per questa libertà.

We laid aside our guitars and drums for this tune has to change now. We are outlaws, fear is our tune and now we want to sing with guns, and now we want to sing with guns. So let's sing now this new song that all you people are going to learn. Don't give a damn of the Bourbon king, this is our land and nobody takes it, this is our land and nobody takes it. All the villages in Basilicata are rising up and want to fight, even Calabria is now insurging and we're going to scare the enemy,

and we're going to scare the enemy. You saw the wolf and got so scared, but you don't know the truth yet. The real wolf who eats children is the Piedmontese so let's drive him away is the Piedmontese so let's drive him away All ye fair maidens who give your heart if you really want to save the outlaw don't look for him, forget his name, we're at war with a merciless enemy, we're at war with a merciless enemy. You were born as a man, you die as an outlaw, we'll shoot and fight up to the last. And if we die, so bring us a flower and an oath for our liberty, and an oath for our liberty.

Szła dzieweczka do laseczka Do zielonego, do zielonego, do zielonego. Napotkała myśliweczka Bardzo szwarnego, bardzo szwarnego, bardzo szwarnego.

Chorus: Gdzie jest ta ulica, gdzie jest ten dom Gdzie jest ta dziewczyna, co kocham ją? Znalazłem ulicę, znalazłem dom, Znalazłem dziewczynę, co kocham ją.

O mój miły myśliweczku, bardzom ci rada, Dałabym ci chleba z masłem, alem już zjadła, Alem już zjadła, alem już zjadła. Chorus: Gdzie jest ta ulica.....

A maiden was walking to the woods, the green woods She met a hunter, very nice one

Chorus: Where's that street, where's that house where's that girl I love, I found the street, I found the house I found the girl I love Hunter, my love, I'm glad to see you I'd give you bread with butter but I have eaten it

Chorus

If you have eaten it, it's been eaten so stop bragging, If I had a piece of stick, I'd beat you

Chorus

I'll tell me ma when I get home The boys won't leave the girls alone They pull my hair, they steal my comb But that's all right till I get home She is handsome, she is pretty She is the belle of Belfast city She is courting one, two, three Hey, won't you tell me, who is he?

Albert Mooney says he loves her All the boys are fighting for her Knock at the door and ring the bell Hey, my true love, are you well Out she comes as white as snow Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes Our Jenny Murry says she'll die If she doesn't get the fellow with the roving eye

Chorus

I'll tell me ma when I get home The boys won't leave the girls alone They pull my hair, they steal my comb But that's all right till I get home She is handsome, she is pretty She is the belle of Belfast city She is courting one, two, three Hey, won't you tell me, who is he?

Created by

Makói Általános Iskola, Alapfokú Művészetoktatási Intézmény és

Logopédiai Intézet (Makó, Hungary)

Saint Emeric Catholic Primary School (Zsombó, Hungary)

Ecole Elémentaire La Gazelle (Nîmes, France)

Istituto Comprensivo Rocco Montano (Stigliano, Italy)

Saints and Scholars Integrated Primary and Nursery School

(Armagh, Northern Ireland)

Szkoła Podstawowa nr 4 im. Władysława Broniewskiego w Zambrowie

(Zambrów, Poland)

The project was realized with the financial support from the European Committee within Comenius Lifelong Learning

Programme. The contents of the programme or materials do not reflect the stand of the European Committee. The publisher is responsible for the contents of all publications. The European Committee bears no responsibility for the

use of this information in any way.