7 Songs from Brecht's Mother Courage and Her Children
Mother Courage's Travelling Song
(First 4 stanzas Scene One; fifth stanza Scene 8; last two stanzas conclude play end of Scene 12)
hawd yer wheesht there stoap yer drum
it’s mother courage this way come
oh have yer squaddies halt and buy
new boots and claes an aw forbye!
flearidden sojers who love their loot
still want the guns they need tae shoot
but how does yer squaddie march tae fight
in scabby boots that’s faur too tight?
It’s springtime noo! move on your way
the snaw’s aw gone. the deid lie deid
but you that huvny died as yet
the powers that be, they still do need.
wi no one sausage for to eat
yer squaddie’ll fight till he faws deid
gie him some forage on his feet noo
a drap a beer, wi a hunk a breid!
despite clapped oot guns despite empty stomachs
yer top brass still say that aw is well
oh get your squaddies fit and well here!
march them fit tae the jaws o hell!
It’s springtime noo! move on your way
the snaw’s aw gone. the deid lie deid
but you that huvny died as yet
the powers that be, they still do need.
-----
From here to there, from there tae aw place
Courage’s cart will aye be seen
The war needs guns tae fill its bawface
For guns an bullets always keen!
But guns an bullets willny fill it
Its regiments they still need you
so join the ranks, get to your billet
sign up yir name tae fight the noo!
------
Wi aw its dangers an stray bullets
this war drags on from day to day
the war could last a hundred years yet
yer common squaddie willny win.
pure crap his food, his gear his rucksack
the regiment docks hauf his pay
an though it might strike you a wonder
this war will never go away!
It’s springtime noo! move on your way
the snaw’s aw gone. the deid lie deid
but you that huvny died as yet
the
powers that be, they still do need.
The Song of
Fraternisation
(Sung by Yvette,
Scene 3)
When I was a lass aged seventeen
an enemy soldier seemed quite keen
he down to the ground let his sabre land
and with such loving looks did take my hand
and after the mayday bright
when there came the mayday night
the regiment presented arms
the drums banged out the old alarms
that soldier took me behind a bush
and we fraternised.
an affair like this might make you puke
that soldier mine, he was a cook
I shunned the sight of him by day
but then at night as one we had our way.
For after the mayday bright
there comes the mayday night
the regiment presents its arms
the drums bang out the old alarms
that soldier he takes me behind a bush
and we come to fraternise.
Such love it comes from heaven above
this forceful ardour, this power of love
my friends they cannot believe their eyes
how much I love him, him do not despise
but then came an awful morn
bereft it left me, forlorn
the regiment presented arms
the drums banged out the old alarms
that soldier who’d been my lover sweet
he marched away to the drummers beat.
The
Song of the Hours
(Sung
by the Chaplain, Scene Three)
It was in the first hour of the day
that Jesus Christ was led away
like common murderer, they say
to Pilate, the heathen judge.
Though he in Christ could find no fault
no sign of treason nor assault
proceedings yet he would not halt
and sent Jesus to Herod.
At three they took Our Lord, God’s son
scourged him with whips bare flesh upon
crowned him with painful benison
—a crown of thorns.
Clad in mock regal robes of state
smitten with clubs and words of hate
given the cross of mankind’s weight
to carry to his death.
At six they stripped our saviour bare
nailed to a cross they hung him there
bleeding from wounds in want of care
he prayed, and gave lamentation.
On his either side two felons hung
who joined in the sneers with mocking tongue
Our Lord hung lone midst jeers among
and the sun left the sky.
At nine in anguish Christ gave cry
my God thou hast forsaken me. Why?
But mocking that now his mouth was dry
they gave him a cup of vinegar.
When Jesus died, all spirit spent
great tremors shook earth’s fundament
the sacred temple curtain rent
and many a boulder shattered.
Those thieves at dusk who hung beside
they broke their legs that soon they died
then took a spear to Jesus’ side
and plunged it in.
Both blood and water poured from thence
scorned him they yet without penitence
this son of man, whose recompense
was to save humanity.
The Song of the Great Capitulation
(Sung by Mother Courage, Scene Four)
once in years gone by, in my springtime bloom
I fancied that I’d have it all my own sweet way in time
(I wasny jist yer average woman frae a single end, I had ma
looks I was sharp as a tack and I’d ma sights aimed high)
and I’d not take shit, if my soup contained a hair
right away they had to change the plate or else
(—it’s absolutely all or nothin, secondbest is not an option,
yi get what you fight for, yi huvty make your own rules)
but a burdie tweet my ear
psst! in a year
you’ll keep in step like aw the rest
parade in time no be a pest
you’ll tootle away yir own wee tune
march up and doon
right turn! yir mates and aw
they’ll say it’s God’s law
an you’ll no say a thing.
an afore a year I had failed the test
I’d swallowed doon ma medicine like aw the rest.
two weans roon ma ankles
the price o a loaf skyhigh and aw the rest o it
I was so done in, jist feelin knackered all the time
them in charge, they had me by the short and curlies
(—you have to get by wi other folk, one haun washes the
other yin, it’s nay use bangin yir heid against a brick wall)
an a burdie tweet my ear
psst! in a year
she’ll keep in step like aw the rest
parade in time not be a pest
she’ll tootle away her own wee tune
march up and doon
right turn! her mates and aw
they’ll say it’s God’s law
an she’ll no say a thing.
I have seen some folk, the heavens above they’d storm
there’s no a star they think too big or jist too faur
away
(if you’ve talent you’ll rise, where there’s a will there’s a way,
anybody
can make it to the top)
but I’ll tell you this, if you set off up icy mountain peaks
then you’ll find a wee straw hat is no inuff
(You have to make out in life wi what you’ve got)
an a burdie tweet my ear
psst! in a year
we’ll keep in step like aw the rest
parade in time no be a pest
we’ll tootle away wir own wee tune
march up and doon
right turn! wir mates and aw
they’ll say it’s God’s law
an we’ll no say a thing.
Song
(Sung by Mother Courage, Scene Seven)
For all the talk of war and glory
great vict’ries won, don’t kid yoursel
war’s nothin but a bit of business
that deals in cheese and boots as well
Some folk’ll look for quiet quarters
a place tae settle doon they crave
they want tae dig their hoose foundations
instead they dig an early grave
Some rush aboot like bees oot jamjars
a peaceful spot they’re searchin oot
but wance they’re deid I aye jist wunnir
You’ve heard of sage old Solomon
and what of him befell
that man knew all there was to know
yet he hated the day and hour of his birth
and said all things were just a show.
So great and wise was Solomon
but it’s for sure as night turns day
folk could see clearly what the trouble was
twas all his wisdom had him end that way
You’ve heard of Julius Caesar brave
they made that man into a god
but then they murdered him as well
for none this so brave man would save
him Brutus stabbed —“You too my son?”
but it’s for sure as night turns day
folk could see clearly what the trouble was
twas all his bravery’d had him end that way
he always spoke the truth
you’d think that he’d be thanked for that
but no, they found him evil, handed him
a glass of hemlock as his drink.
How honest was this people’s son!
but it’s for sure as night turns day
folk could see clearly what the trouble was
twas all his honesty’d had him end that way
The holy Martin was so kind
he could not need ignore
he saw a poor man in the snow
and he gave his coat to him, what’s more
they simply froze to death, the two of them.
Not here on earth did he get thanks.
but it’s for sure as night turns day
folk could see clearly what the trouble was
twas all his kindness had him end that way
We stand before you decent folk
who god’s commandments keep
it’s brought us not much help so far
you in there, who warm yourselves by a fire
help us in this our hour of need
we’ve been godfearing folk till now
but it’s for sure as night turns day
folk can see clearly what the trouble is
twas fear of god that’s had us end this way
Voice ( from above) Come on up, there’s some soup here for you!
Lullaby
(Sung by Mother Courage, Scene Eleven.
Daughter Kattrin dead in Mother Courage’s arms)
hushaby ma dearie
nestlin’ in the hay
neighbours’ weans are girnin
oors jist run an play
neighbours weans are clatty
oors are clean an neat
lookin like an angel
sae sweet.
neighbours weans go starvin
oors have cake aw day
an if their cake’s too crumbly
aw they need is say
hushaby ma dearie
nestlin in the hay
I’ve wan lay doon in Poland
the other’s faur away.