Monday, July 24, 2006

Me and Bobby McGee (Janis Joplin)

Language: Dutch

I used to like this song, and then I had a job where for three months, I heard this over and over and over from the local Oldies station (which was also responsible for a good chunk of my "American Pie" exposure), and now I dislike it very enthusiastically. Which is sad.

It nevertheless seemed like the thing to post today, because: 1) It was ready to be posted, 2) It's kind of depressive, and so am I (bummed out about employment issues), and 3) the re-working manages to freshen it up enough that it doesn't quite occupy the same space in my brain as the original.

The tendency of Dutch to translate "la la la" as "drawer drawer drawer" continues to puzzle me, although we've seen it before.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A busted train waits in Baton Rouge. I felt plain,
and so almost disappeared. My "slow jeans" are this way.
Flat Bobby thumbed a diesel before it rained;
we rode it to New Orleans, in our ready manner.

I drew my harpoon from my dirty red bandana:
I played gently, whereas Bobby sang the blues.
Wipers which were loved of the louvre-board, I slapped Bobby's hand in my time,
we sang each song that the driver knew.

Freedom is only a another word for loose leaves.
Honey ain't free now: it means nothing, nothing such as the
feel. And, well, the Lord was easy, and then he sang the blues.
Well, you feel good enough for me.
My Bobby McGee and me were well enough.

Of the Kentucky coal, to the California sun-mining,
hey, Bobby shared the mysteries of my soul.
By, everything that we did, all kinds of
my babies held back. Hey, Bobby: you cold?

One day up near Salinas, the Lord omitted him. I slipped
at that house. I have hope that he's looking, and he
finds a trade, but for yesterday. Each of my tomorrows
selects Bobby's body to love, beside me.

Freedom is only a another word for loose leaves. That's nothing;
Bobby left me nothing. Yes, all that
feeling easy was good, but, Lord, then he sang the blues.
Hey, well was well enough, hmm?
well enough for me and my Bobby McGee feel hmm.

LaLa van La,
LaLa van LaLa,
LaLa's drawer,
of LaLa van LaLa,
LaLa van Lavan
LaLa Bobby McGee.
Van of LaLa van La LaLa,
of LaLa van LaLa,
LaLa van van
LaLa LaLa,
Bobby McGee, the drawer.

Drawer of drawer,
LaLa van LaLa, LaLa's drawer,
of La van LaLa
van La van LaLa
LaLa's drawer.
Hey now, Bobby,
Bobby McGee: yes, now.
NaNa van NaNa
NaNa after NaNa van NaNa,
van NaNa, van NaNa,
after van NaNa,
Hey now, Bobby now,
Bobby McGee. Yes.

My Lord, who calls the people to clamour,
calls only my best lover. I said,
where can Bobby progress now? Yes, where is Bobby McGee?
Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lord,
hey hey, hey, Lord, Bobby McGee!

Yes! Whew!

Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lordy, Lord,
hey hey, hey, Bobby McGee.

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