Текст песни Eliza Carthy, Martin Carthy, Paul Weller - John Barleycorn

Three kings he angered ,
And it was decided
John perish forever
Barleycorn .

Ordered to dig a plow
Tombs of the Kings ,
That glorious John , soldier dashing,
Not out of the land .

Grass covered hillside,
In creeks full of water ,
And out of the land of John
Barleycorn .

Still stubborn and obstinate,
On the hill in the summer heat
He threatens spears enemies
Shaking his head.

But autumn is sober .
And heavily loaded,
Wilted under the burden of care,
Bent old John .

It's time to die -
Winter is not far .
And here again Foes
Took up the old man.

Dumped his hunchbacked knife
One stroke down,
And, like a tramp on pravezh ,
Taking him by the current.

John began hitting
Villains morning .
Then , throwing up,
Circling in the wind.

He was immersed in the well ,
On the gloomy bottom.
But in the water does not sink John
Barleycorn .

Not sparing his bones ,
Threw them into the fire ,
A heart miller among the stones
Ruthlessly rubbed .

His blood raging in the boiler,
Under the hoop rages
Boil in circles on the table
And cheers the soul .

Not for nothing was the late John
When life done -
Courage he raises
From the bottom of people's hearts .

He drives out of my head
Tiresome swarm worries.
A mug of heart widow
Sing for joy ...

So let the rest of time
Does not dry out the bottom
In the barrel , where John Bubbles
Barleycorn !

Folk / Burns / Marshak