|Orin||Europa > Iwerzhon|
|Niver a bellgargañ||9085|
Lord Baker (traditional folk song) There was a Lord who lived in this land He being a Lord of high degree He left his foot down a ship’s board And swore strange countries he would go see He’s travelled East and he’s travelled West Half the North and the South also Until he arrived into Turkey land There he was taken and bound in prison Until his life it grew weary And Turkey bold had one only daughter As fair a lady as the eye could see She stole the key to her Daddy’s harbour And swore Lord Baker she would set free. Singing "You have houses and you have linen, All Northumber belongs to thee What would you give to Turkey’s daughter If out of prison she’d set you free?" Singing "I have houses, I have linen, All Northumber belongs to me I would will them all to you my darling If out of prison you set me free?" She’s brought him down to her Daddy’s harbour And filled for him was the ship of fame And every toast that she did drink round him, "I wish Lord Baker that you were mine" They made a vow for seven years And seven more for to keep it strong Saying "If you don’t wed with no other woman I’m sure I’ll wed with no other man" And seven years been past and over And seven more they were rolling on She’s bundled up all her golden clothing And swore Lord Baker she would go find She’s travelled East and she’s travelled West Until she came to the palace of fame "Who is that, who is that?" called the young foot soldier "Who knocks so gently and can’t get in?" "Is this Lord Baker’s palace?" replied the lady "Or is his lordship himself within?" "This is Lord Baker’s palace" replied the porter "This very day took a new bride in" "Well ask him send me a cut of his wedding cake A glass of his wine that been e’er so strong And to remember the brave young lady Who did release him in Turkey land" In goes, in goes, the young foot soldier Kneels down gently on his right knee "Rise up, rise up now the brave young porter, What news, what news have you got for me?" Singing, "I have news of a grand arrival, As fair a lady as the eye could see She is at the gate Waiting for your charity." "She wears a gold ring on every finger, And on the middle one where she wears three, She has more gold hanging around her middle Than’d buy Northumber and family." "She asked you send her a cut of your wedding cake A glass of your wine, it been e’er so strong, And to remember the brave young lady Who did release you in Turkey land" Down comes, down comes the new bride’s mother "What will I do with my daughter dear?" "I know your daughter, she’s not been covered Nor has she shown any love for me." "Your daughter came with one pack of gold I’ll avert her home now, with thirty-three." He took his sword all by the handle And cut the wedding cake, in pieces three Singing "here’s a slice for the new bride’s mother A slice for me new love and one for me." And then Lord Baker, ran to his darling Of twenty-one steps, he made but three He put his arms around Turkey’s daughter And kissed his true love, most tenderly.
Ar skridou muzik zo var ar sit-mañ ’peus moaien pellkargañ evid netra ; koulskoude, an toniou ha ne teuont ket deuz ar bobl a hell bea dindan gwirioù-eilañ.
Ma kav deoh zo eur skridoù-sonerezh ha n’eo ket ba e leh war al lec’hienn-mañ, skrivet din ha me a lamo aneañ dioustu.