Upon one summer's morning,
I carefully did stray,
Down by the Walls of Wapping,
where I met a sailor gay,
Conversing with a yang lass,
who seem'd to be in pain,
Saying, William, when you go,
I fear you will ne'er return again.
His hair hangs in ringlets,
his eyes as black as soles,
My happiness attend him
wherever he may go,
From Tower Hill, down to Blackwall,
I'll wander, weep and moan,
All for my jolly sailor bold,
until he does return.
My father is a merchant —
the truth I will now tell,
And in great London City in
opulence doth dwell,
His fortune doth exceed
300,000 gold,
And he frowns upon his daughter,
'cause she loves a sailor bold.
A fig for his riches,
his merchandise, and gold,
True love has grafted my heart;
give me my sailor bold:
Should he return in poverty,
from o'er the ocean far,
To my tender bosom,
I'll fondly press my jolly tar.
My sailor is as smiling
as the pleasant month of May,
And oft we have wandered
through Ratcliffe Highway,
Where many a pretty
blooming girl we did behold,
Reclining on the bosom
of her jolly sailor bold.
My name it is Maria,
a merchant's daughter fair,
And I have left my parents and
three thousand pounds a year,
Come all you pretty fair maids,
whoever you may be
Who love a jolly sailor bold
that ploughs the raging sea,
While up aloft, in storm,
from me his absence mourn,
And firmly pray, arrive the day,
he home will safe return.
My heart is pierced by Cupid,
I disdain all glittering gold,
There is nothing that can console me
but my jolly sailor bold.
Припев(RUS):
Моё сердце так тоскует
Ни к чему мне денег звон.
Лишь моряк меня утешит,
Ведь дороже злата он.
Ах, красавицы-девицы,
Давно известно нам
Лишь моряк нам дарит голос,
Скользящий по волнам.
Моё сердце так тоскует
Ни к чему мне денег звон.
Лишь моряк меня утешит,
Ведь дороже злата он.
