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74 |
INTERLUDE TWO |
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LA MISERE
Tape parte pou depression
Vd pas coring ca c'est ye
Quand la misere prends chaudieres-yi
Toutes chaudieres cap cdte. ha misere, la misere, C'est qui-chose quitte-il?
Fose pas ta pot3
N'avi pas cafe,
Pou demain matin, mon cher ami,
Quand n m leve.
Trend le vieux cafe*
S$che-li dans soleil,
S'ti-n'y-a pas du sucre, mon cher ami,
Seroi du sel.
Quand m'tapS longi, api repose, m tendS frappe de M. Jouvert, li
frappe la porte-la. Moin dit "M. Jouvert, m'pas fait tra-
vaille, M'pas gaignin Vargent vien prochaine semaine.
Li mettS ti notice-la, dans la
chiffonier, Comme m' gardS ti-notice~la, li dit moin demenage.
JE—, c'est la misire, La misere pou toutes allS, Comme un chien, comme un chat, Toutes gaigin la misere. |
THE DEPRESSION
They speak of depression, But they don't know what it is— When trouble takes hold of the pots. All the pots are turned upside down. Yes, the depression, the depression, Is there anyway to get rid of it?
Dont put on the pot,
We dont have any coffee
For tomorrow morning, my dear,
When we get up.
Then take the grounds, Dry them in the sun— If there's no sugar, my friend, Serve salt instead.
Well, I was lying down, trying to take
my rest, And I heard M. Jouvert (the landlord)
come knocking on my door. I said, "Mr. Jouvert, I don't have a
job, I'm broke, come back next week."
He put a little notice on the chiffonere, when I read thai little notice, It said I had to move out of the house—
O it's the depression, depression . . . Yes, the depression, the depression's
everywhere, Ex>en the dogs and the cats, too, Everybody's got troubles. |
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During the playback of his ironic Creole ballad, Ulysses' wicked old eyes popped with delight He slapped his withered and flapping thighs and cheered himself passionately. The neighborhood apparently concurred, for the house debouched Creole ladies of all ages, who shrieked with laughter at every Calypsonian turn of the song.
When Alphonse played his own famous tune, High Society, rippling through the difficult solo passage, the audience drifted away: jazz for these ladies was not quite a part of the rich and secret life of the Creole district, whereas the songs, they were |
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