Irish Rebel Music

A música tradicional foi fonte de hinos propagandísticos na luta irlandesa pela liberdade, a independência e na militância pela recuperação da unidade territorial. Muitas destas rebel songs têem letras circunstanciais e caracterizam-se por umas altas doses de simpleza ideológica, mas a força da música (e a sua extrema identificação sentimental com o ser irlandês) compensa essas falhas. Grupos de origem irlandês têem cantado e gravado estas canções por todo o mundo: EEUU, Austrália, GB...

Existe uma variante desta música que actua de maneira distinta. Trata-se das canções sobre bandidos, que contam a vida dum bandoleiro de tempos antigos e que paradoxalmente conseguem a identificação com a luta contra a injustiça, a opresão e, por extensão, contra a autoridade, de jeito mais eficaz que o resto da rebel music. Um exemplo típico seria o de Whiskey In The Jar, de cuja letra oferecemos duas versões distintas, a segunda muito semelhante à gravada pelos Pogues e os Dubliners:

As I was going over the Cork and Kerry mountains
I met with Captain Farrell and his money he was counting
I first produced my pistol, and then produced my rapier
I said stand over and deliver, or the Devil he may take ya

musha ring dumma do damma da
Whack for the daddy 'ol
Whack for the daddy 'ol
There's whiskey in the jar

I took all his money, and it was a pretty penny
I took all his money, and I brought it home to Molly
She swore that she loved never would she leave me
But the devil take that woman, for you know she tricked me easy

Being drunk and weary I went to Molly's chamber
Taked my Molly with me for I never knew the danger
But by the sixth or the seventh in walked Captain Farrell
I jumped up, fired both my pistols and shot him with both barrels

Now some men like a fishin and some men like a fowlin
Some like to hear, the cannonballs a roarin
But I like sleeping 'specially in my Molly's chamber
But here I am in prison, here I am with a ball and chain

----------o0o----------

As I was going over the far famed Kerry mountains
I met with Captain Farrell and his money he was counting
I first produced my pistol, and I then produced my rapier
Saying stand and deliver, for you are a bold deceiver,

Musha ring dumma do damma da
Whack for the daddy 'ol
Whack for the daddy 'ol
There's whiskey in the jar

I counted out his money, and it made a pretty penny
I put it in me pocket and I took it home to Jenny
She sighed and she swore, that she never would deceive me,
but the devil take the women, for they never can be easy

I went into my chamber, all for to take a slumber,
I dreamt of gold and jewels and for sure it was no wonder
But Jenny drew me charges and she filled them up with water,
Then sent for captain Farrell to be ready for the slaughter.

It was early in the morning, as I rose up for travel,
Up comes a pack of footmen and likewise captain Farrell
I first produced my pistol, for she stole away my rapier,
But I couldn't shoot the water so a prisoner I was taken.

Now some men take delight in the drinking and the roving,
But others take delight in the hurley and the bowling.
But I take delight in the juice of the barley,
And courting pretty fair maids in the morning bright and early
If anyone can aid me, tis my brother in the army,
If I can find his station, in Cork or in Killarney.
And if he'll go with me, we'll go roving near Kilkenny,
And I swear he'll treat me better than me darling sportling Jenny.


Outro exemplo tem origem australiana. Trata-se de The Wild Colonnial Boy, que conheceu fortuna nos EEUU pelo uso que fez dela John Ford em The Quiet Man (O homem tranquilo, 1952) e que logo foi gravada com éxito pelos Clancy Bros. Oferecemos também distintas versões:

Primeiro, tal e como é cantada na fita de Ford:

There was a wild colonial boy
Jack Duggan was his name
He was born and bred in Ireland
In a town called Castlemane
He was his father's only son;
His mother's pride and joy
And dearly did his parents love
This wild colonial boy.

At the early age of sixteen years
He left his native home,
And to Australia's sunny shores
He was inclined to roam
He robbed the wealthy squireen
All arms he did destroy
A terror to Australia was
This wild colonial boy.


Outra versão, menos inocente e mais longa:

There was a wild colonial boy,
Jack Duggan was his name
He was born and raised in Ireland in a place called Castlemaine
He was his father's only son, his mother's pride and joy
And dearly did his parents love the wild colonial boy

At the early age of sixteen years, he left his native home
And to Australia's sunny shore he was inclined to roam
He robbed the rich, he helped the poor, he shot James McAvoy
A terror to Australia was the wild colonial boy

One morning on the prairie as Jack he rode along
A listening to the mockingbird a singing a cheerful song
Out stepped a band of troopers, Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy
They all set out to capture him, the wild colonial boy

"Surrender now Jack Duggan for you see we're three to one
Surrender in the Queen's high name for you're a plundering son"
Jack pulled two pistols from his belt and he proudly waved them high
"I'll fight, but not surrender," said the wild colonial boy

He fired a shot at Kelly, which brought him to the ground
And turning 'round to Davis, he received a fatal wound
A bullet pierced his proud young heart from the pistol of Fitzroy
And that was how they captured him, the wild colonial boy


E mais uma terceira, na que o nome muda de "Duggan" para "Doolan":

So come away me hearties
We'll roam the mountains high,
Together we will plunder
And together we will die.
We'll scour along the valleys
And we'll gallop or'er the plains,
And scorn to live in slavery,
Bound down by iron chains.

There was a wild Colonial Boy,
Jack Doolan was his name,
Of poor but honest parents,
He was born in Castlemaine.
He was his father's only hope
His mother's pride and joy,
And dearly did his parents love
The Wild Colonial Boy.

At the age of sixteen years
He left his native home,
And to Australia's sunny shores
A bushranger did roam.
They put him in the iron gang
In the government employ,
But never an iron on earth could hold
The Wild Colonial Boy

In sixty-one this daring youth
Commenced his wild career,
With a heart that knew no danger
And no foreman did he fear.
He stuck up the Beechworth mail coach
And robbed Judge MacEvoy
Who, trembling cold, gave up his gold
To the Wild Colonial Boy

He bade the Judge good morning
And he told him to beware,
That he'd never rob a needy man
Or one who acted square,
But a Judge who'd robed a mother
Of her one and only joy
Sure, he must be a worse outlaw than
The Wild Colonial Boy

One day as Jack was riding
The mountainside along,
A- listening to the little birds
Their happy laughing song.
Three mounted troopers came along,
Kelly, Davis and Fitzroy
With a warrant for the capture of
The Wild Colonial Boy.

'Surrender now! Jack Doolan,
For you see it's three to one;
Surrender in the Queen's own name,
You are a highwayman.
'Jack drew his pistol from his belt
And waved it like a toy,
'I'll fight, but not surrender,'
criedThe Wild Colonial Boy.

He fired at trooper Kelly
And brought him to the ground,
And in return from Davis,Received a mortal wound,
All shattered through the jaws he lay
Still firing at Fitzroy,
And that's the way they captured him,
The Wild Colonial Boy.