Lyrics

Dear friends let's drink
(Chers amis buvons)
translation : Guy Demers

 

Dear friends let’s drink

But let’s not go on a bender

I have good wine in my bottle

Have your drink and wine too

Let’s embellish our chagrin

Let’s drown our sorrow in drink

 

I have a little favour to ask you

If you give it to me

We could get married

Yes, I’ll agree

I shall give you a love token

Yes, beautiful, I’ll marry you

 

I have money to spend

My grandfather gave me

Écus and pistoles

And half fourth of écus

To play trambonne

At the table of the old king Bacchus

 

There I see that you don’t love me

You don’t even look at me

Lovers by the dozen

You can choose

Choose, you‘ll take worse

 

 

The big shot
(Le gros Richard)
translation : Guy Demers

 

I am a big shot, look at my shoes (bis)

They have neither tack, nor seams, nor soles, nor pieces

 

I live content

But without putting myself in difficulty

And there I live content, I live satisfied

 

I wear a beautiful shirt, a fin kit (bis)

With no back, nor sleeves, nor collar, nor front

 

When a louse grieves me, I cease it by the neck (bis)

I put it on my nail and I ruine it

 

 

The Three brothers Roy
(Les 3 frères Roy)
translation : Guy Demers

 

On a ship there were three brothers

They were fine facing the sea

Three tall tough men of the Finistère

Caught on the river in the dept of the winter

 

In the mouth of the St-Laurent river

They saw how large it was

On their faces the wind icing

As their speaking on the continent

 

Just before the fiord and his current

Full of hope and uncertainty

Although it was dark, the moon shining

They could see inhabitants

 

They came on board

And unloaded their goods

Three beautiful female farmers without lovers

Took them in the meantime

 

In December they ask

For the three mistresses’hand

All pleased, they accepted

The year after they got married

 

On the flank f Mont-Joli

Affluents of paradise

And windy it was

Elements were vigorous

 

To set up in the village

One must built three big mills

To feed one self, to grind grain

To plane the tall fir trees

 

 

Then the brothers sawed up wood

And the female farmers pea soup

A pot hanger a good meal

And thatched cottages against cold (bis)

 

It is in the lower St-Laurent

In a sleigh under the snow

Sited on the skin of white hare

Watermill, windmill

 

On a brand new continent

Had many grandchildren

A fine people, a great people

Watermill, windmill (bis)

 

 

On a Sunday night
(Par un dimanche au soir)
translation : Guy Demers

 

On a Sunday night I was to spend the evening

I heard the Beauty singing a song

Emptying bottles, glasses and flasks

 

I came around her to talk about love

She answered nicely : “Galant go away !”

I love another one, prettier than you

 

If I must retire, I will

In a convent, Beauty, there I’ll die

You will not have to tell me I did not love you

 

Girls are volage, so don’t frequent them (bis)

Often saying they love you, often they don’t

 

At the Springside
(Au bord de la fontaine)
translation : Guy Demers

 

At the springside

The beauty me dondaine (bis)

In the nice month of May

The beauty me lalala

In the nice month of May

The beauty me dondé (bis)

 

On the branch of an oak

The beauty me dondaine (bis)

Nice nightingale singing

The beauty me lalala

Nice nightingale singing

The beauty me dondé (bis)

 

Sing nightingale sing

The beauty me dondaine (bis)

If you have a light heart

The beauty me lalala

If you have a light heart

The beauty me dondé (bis)

 

Mine is not likely

The beauty me dondaine

He is afflicted

The beauty me lalala

He is very afflicted

The beauty me dondé (bis)

 

Pierre my friend Pierre

The beauty me dondaine (bis)

At war is gone

The beauty me lalala

At war is gone

The beauty me dondé (bis)

 

For a brunch of roses

The beauty me dondaine (bis)

That I refuse her

The beauty me lalala

That I refuse her

The beauty me dondé (bis)

 

I would like that the rose

The beauty me dondaine (bis)

Still be a rose bush

The beauty me lalala

Still be a rose bush

The beauty me dondé (bis)

 

And I wish my friend Pierre

The beauty me dondaine (bis)

Still care for me

The beauty me lalala

Still care for me

The beauty me dondé (bis)

 

 

Grand Pit
translation : Guy Demers

 

When grand Pit was born, he was the nicest baby of the village

He was the most delicate of the world,

he did not speak, but it was all

His father wanted him to become a notary, her mother a priest

His grandfather a dentist, his grandmother a garage mechanic

Grand Pit stayed on the soil to cultivate as his father did (bis)

 

In autumn he travelled by train, leaving for five or six months

He was going on the Côte-Nord, as lumberjack

It was flying to the left and to the right, fir and spruce threes

One mile walking the other with snowshoes,

nice weather as well as cold one

When Grand Pit was coming back,

 he was the richest man of the Côte-Nord (bis)

 

When spring arrived, Grand Pit was coming

down from the lumberyard

Drunker, he was going to the hotel

He was getting drunk with beer and it played tunes

Days and weeks long, he was drinking until the last cent

He was becoming broken, then hitch-hiked to his father

 

Even if Grand Pit loved drinking, he was a good story teller

A joker and a dancer, also a good singer

He used to sing old songs, sometime sad

While singing he was dancing petticoat

When doing so, he was forgetting the hour

 

When sitting at the table, it was amazing

He was an unsatisfied man who was drinking like mad

With beans and molasses, pea soup and stew

Salted fat bacon and pancake than going to bed

The day after for breakfast in the morning, it was a bottle of brandy

 

On a Saturday of September he decided to marry

The wedding, the beer and the dancing then founded a family

Each new year, more male and female twin children appeared

Hooked, straight and pretty, the house was full

No, Grand Pit was not taking a holiday, but enjoying his seasonal unemployment

 

At his hundred years of age,

he was going to church every morning

One day his mare kicked him, he could not survive

They buried him beside his four wives

My friends, here is the story of Grand Pit who loved drinking

Things were settled last morning at the cemetery

 

 

The complaisant monk
(Le moine complaisant)
translation : Guy Demers

 

On a nice morning, walking in the plain (bis)

I climbed up a tree, oh oh, to look further, trin, trin, trin

Today am going maluré lon la, tomorrow I come back

 

I climbed up a tree, oh oh, to look further (bis)

I saw a monk, oh oh, over there in nooks, trin, trin, trin

Today am going maluré lon la, tomorrow I’ll be back

 

I saw a monk over there in nook (bis)

Who was confessing girls a drink in his hand, trin, trin, trin

Today am going maluré lon la, tomorrow I’ll be back

 

Who was confessing girls a drink in his hand (bis)

He said to the youngest, oh oh, you come back tomorrow, trin, trin, trin

Today am going maluré lon la, tomorrow I’ll be back

 

He said to the youngest, you come back tomorrow (bis)

Tomorrow at the same hour, oh oh, or earlier in the morning, trin, trin, trin

Today am going maluré lon la, tomorrow I’ll be back

 

Tomorrow at the same hour or earlier in the morning (bis)

We’ll talk business, oh oh, that we know well, trin, trin, trin

Today am going maluré lon la, tomorrow I’ll be back (bis)