Listen
A trader made his way from Bulgar lands.
He led his trains of twelve and fifteen mules
and sang and spoke the while he trekked along:
– A pity brigands don’t frequent these hills.
No sooner said and three confronted him,
and cut the ropes and started to unload.
– Good lads, let well alone, don’t cut the ropes,
I’m tired and weary of securing loads.
One hit him with a sword, one with a stave,
the third, his brother, struck him on the head;
he stabbed him with a knife, then questioned him.
– Young man, where are you from, where is your home?
– My mother’s from the East, my father from the West.
I had a brother once, a brigand chief.
He took him in his arms and sought the leech.
– Physician, you have cured both hewn and hacked.
– Both many hacked I’ve cured and many hewn.
This though’s a brother’s stab and knows no cure.
Translated by John Leatham
Πραματευτής κατέβαινε
Πραματε- πραματευτής κατέβαινε
πραματευτής κατέβαινε της Βουργαριάς τα μέρη.
Σέρνει μου- σέρνει μουλάρια δώδεκα
σέρνει μουλάρια δώδεκα και μούλες δεκαπέντε.
Εκεί που πάει και τραγουδάει, εκεί που πάει και λέει:
– Κρίμα σε τούτα τα βουνά και κλέφτες να μην έχουν.
Κι ευτύς παρουσιάστηκαν τρεις κλέφτες εμπροστά του
κι αρχίσαν ξεφορτώματα και τα σκοινιά να κόβουν.
– ν-Αφήστε, βρε καλά παιδιά, και τα σκοινιά μη κόβ’τε,
βαρέθηκα, μπιζέρισα να δένω, να φορτώνω.
Ένας του χτύπα με σπαθί κι ο άλλος με κοντάρι
κι ο τρίτος τ’ αδερφάκι του τον χτύπα στο κεφάλι.
Μια μαχαιριά τον έσυρε κι ύστερα τον ρωτάει.
– Νέε, και πού ’ν’ τα μέρη σου, ’πό πού ’ν’ τα γονικά σου;
– Η μάνα μ’ απ’ την Ανατολή κι ο κύρης μ’ απ’ τη Δύση,
είχα κι ένα καλό αδερφό στους κλέφτες καπετάνιος.
Στην αγκαλιά τ’ τον άρπαξε και στο γιατρό τον πάει.
– Γιατρέ μ’, πολλούς εγιάτρεψες κομμένους και σφαγμένους.
– Πολλούς σφαγμένους γιάτρεψα, πολλούς μαχαιρωμένους,
αυτή ’ναι αδερφομαχαιριά και γιατρεμό δεν έχει.
A song encountered throughout the Greek world. That it has even survived among the Greek-speaking inhabitants of Corsica has prompted S. Baud-Bovy to conclude that the song predates 1675, the year in which Maniots sailed there from the Peloponnese. N.G. Politis has posited that the brothers were initially warriors, which would make the song part to the Byzantine Akritic cycle.
The ancient motif of siblings or spouses who meet and fail to recognize one another with tragic or near-tragic results figures frequently in myth and song. When the siblings are male, the meeting ends with one or both dying at the other’s hand. When they are man and woman, the danger of corrupt union hangs over them, which is usually averted by recognition at the twelfth hour (See also songs Three lords a-sitting, A little shorty (Meli, Asia Minor), A little shorty (Skiathos)). That this timeless collective fear should prevail over every other would seem indicative of social fluidity, reflecting their creators’ trepidation in the face of the threatened dissolution of their families and communities due to war, invasion, capture, forced enlistment, displacement etc. Miranda Terzopoulou (2008)
Translated by Michael Eleftheriou
Live recording from the concert The known and unknown Domna at the Megaron, the Athens Concert Hall, in 29/10/1998.
Domna Samiou learned the song from the chiot chanter, Zacharias Mikedis, in the 1960s.
