John Barleycorn
There were three men
Came from the west
Their fortunes for to tell,
And the life of John Barleycorn
As well.
They laid him in three furrows deep,
Laid clods upon his head,
Then these three man made a solemn vow
John Barleycorn was dead.
The let him die for a very long time
Till the rain from heaven did fall,
Then little Sir John sprang up his head
And he did amaze them all.
They let him stand till the midsummer day,
Till he looked both pale and wan.
The little Sir John he grew a long beard
And so became a man.
They have hired men with the scythes so sharp,
To cut him off at the knee,
The rolled him and they tied him around the waist,
They served him barbarously.
They have hired men with the crab-tree sticks,
To cut him skin from bone,
And the miller has served him worse than that,
For he's ground him between two stones.
They've wheeled him here, they've wheeled him there,
They've wheeled him to a barn,
And thy have served him worse than that,
They've bunged him in a vat.
They have worked their will on John Barleycorn
But he lived to tell the tale,
For they pour him out of an old brown jug
And they call him home brewed ale.
João Cevada
Havia três homens
Que vieram do oeste
Para contar suas sortes,
E a vida de João Cevada
Igualmente.
Eles o deitaram em três sulcos profundos,
Colocaram barro sobre sua cabeça,
Então esses três homens fizeram um voto solene
João Cevada estava morto.
Deixaram-no morrer por muito tempo
Até que a chuva do céu caiu,
Então o pequeno Sir João levantou a cabeça
E surpreendeu a todos.
Deixaram-no em pé até o dia do solstício,
Até que ele ficou pálido e fraco.
O pequeno Sir João deixou crescer uma longa barba
E assim se tornou um homem.
Eles contrataram homens com foices bem afiadas,
Para cortá-lo até o joelho,
Eles o enrolaram e o amarraram na cintura,
O trataram de forma brutal.
Eles contrataram homens com varas de espinheiro,
Para tirar sua pele do osso,
E o moleiro o tratou pior que isso,
Pois o moeram entre duas pedras.
Eles o levaram daqui, levaram dali,
Levaram-no para um celeiro,
E o trataram ainda pior que isso,
Jogaram-no em um tonel.
Eles fizeram o que quiseram com João Cevada
Mas ele viveu para contar a história,
Pois o serviram de um velho jarro marrom
E o chamam de cerveja artesanal.