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Paddy O'Rafferty

Language: English

Paddy O'Rafferty, merry and vigorous,
Laugh'd at his lot, tho'  'twas somewhat too rigorous;
Poor was his prize from the wheel of life's lottery,
Turning the wheel in old Dennis Keogh's pottery.
Still he kept turning, and still the clay tapering,
Grew a black pot to hold ink for with paper in,
Sometimes a brown jar to hoard a small pension in,
Sometimes, faith, something not worth a word's mentioning.

Arrah, quoth Paddy, and so goes the round about,
So come those fortunes they make such a sound about,
Some in their save-alls their thousands are gathering,
Some from these ink-pots great families fathering.
So Mister Keogh I no longer will stay with ye,
Luck, whispers Paddy, take heart and away with ye,
Stout are your limbs, a good countenance carrying,
Why should not Paddy catch money by marrying?

Pat took the hint and gambol'd like a mountebank,
Small were his dealings with town or with county bank,
Short his accounts were, and no need of docqueting,
Light was his money-bag, easy in pocketing.
Up with his bundle, his trusty stick shouldering,
Set them, quoth Pat, stay at home and be mouldering;
But a smooth shilling I'd willingly now wager,
Paddy O'Rafferty hooks an old dowager.


Translation(s): GER

List of language codes

Submitted by Ferdinando Albeggiani

Authorship


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

  • by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770 - 1827), "Paddy O'Rafferty", WoO. 153 (20 Irische Lieder mit Begleitung von Pianoforte, Violine und Violoncello) no. 14, G. 224 no. 14, published 1814/6. [voice, piano, violin, violoncello] [
     text verified 1 time
    ]

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):


Text added to the website: 2005-01-12.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:12
Line count: 24
Word count: 206

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Paddy O'Rafferty

Language: German (Deutsch) after the English

Paddy O'Rafferty lustig und herzhaft
Lacht seines Loses, ob oft auch zu schmerzhaft,
Karg nur begünstigt vom Glücksrad des Lebens,
Dreht' er am Holzrad des Töpfers vergebens;
Drehte und suchte, den Ton zu gestalten,
Bald ward ein Napf daraus, Dinge zu halten,
Bald eine Büchse, um Geld zu verstecken,
Manchmal ein Ding zu Gott weiß was für Zwecken.

Klar ist's, rief Pat, daß nur alles ums Geld geht,
Reichtum allein ist's, darum sich die Welt dreht;
Manchen erwirbt so ein Tintenfaß Kronen,
Manchem erspart solch ein Büchschen Millionen.
Drum will ich, Meister, nicht länger mich placken,
Glück flüstert: Pat, eil, dein Bündel zu packen;
Schlank bist du von Wuchs und hübsch von Gebärden,
Kannst du durch Heirat ein Krösus nicht werden?

Pat folgt dem Wink und vergnügt schlägt ein Rad er,
Wenig bekümmert um Bank sich und Stadt er;
Kurz war die Rechnung und bald überschlagen,
Leicht war sein Beutel und mühlos zu tragen.
Auf mit dem Bündel! Und schultert den Stecken;
Mögt ihr, rief Pat, hinterm Ofen verrecken!
Wette dies Blanke Stück Geld auf dem Tische,
Daß Pat eine steinalte Witwe sich fische!


Submitted by Ferdinando Albeggiani

Authorship


Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

    [ None yet in the database ]


Text added to the website: 2005-01-12.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:12
Line count: 24
Word count: 184