A rekiny w oceanie
Mają zębów pełen pysk,
Mackie ma w kieszeni majcher,
Lecz kto widział jego błysk?
A w Tamizy toń zieloną
Wpada nagle ten i ów.
Czy to dżuma, czy cholera?
Nie, to Mackie krąży znów.
I Szmul Majer gdzieś zaginął,
I niejeden bogacz znikł,
Jego złoto ma nasz Mackie,
Ale o tym nie wie nikt.
Jenny Towler znaleziono
Z nożem w piersiach, ale cóż?
Mackie Majcher spaceruje
I nikt nie wie, czyj był nóż.
Gdzie jest Alfons Glite, woźnica,
Czy ujrzymy go, czy nie?
Mackie tego nie wie wcale,
Chciaż każdy o tym wie.
A ten wielki pożar w Soho:
Czworo dziatek, jeden dziad?
Mackie Majcher spaceruje,
Nikt nie pyta, każdy zgadł.
Kiedy rekin krwią się splami,
Krew w pamięci musi trwać...
Mackie nosi rękawiczki,
Żeby nic nie było znać.
Bertolt Brecht
przekład Władysław Broniewski
*
Mackie Messer
Und der Haifisch, der hat Zähne
Und die trägt er im Gesicht
Und MacHeath, der hat ein Messer
Doch das Messer sieht man nicht
An 'nem schönen blauen Sonntag
Liegt ein toter Mann am Strand
Und ein Mensch geht um die Ecke,
Den man Mackie Messer nennt
Und Schmul Meier bleibt verschwunden
Und so mancher reiche Mann
Und sein Geld hat Mackie Messer
Dem man nichts beweisen kann
Jenny Towler ward gefunden
Mit 'nem Messer in der Brust
Und am Kai geht Mackie Messer,
Der von allem nichts gewußt
Und die minderjährige Witwe
Deren Namen jeder weiß
Wachte auf und war geschändet
Mackie welches war dein Preis?
Refrain
Und die einen sind im Dunkeln
Und die anderen sind im Licht
Doch man sieht nur die im Lichte
Die im Dunklen sieht man nicht
Doch man sieht nur die im Lichte
Die im Dunklen sieht man nicht
*
Mack The Knife
Oh the shark has pretty teeth, dear
Now that Mack is back in town
*
Oh, the poor shark,
Yes, the sweet shark,
It has big teeth
Buried deep.
Then there's Macheath
With his big knife,
But it's hidden
In his slip.
And this same shark,
This poor sweet shark,
It sheds red blood
When it bleeds.
Mackie Big Knife
Wears a white glove,
Pure in word and
Pure in deed.
Sunday morning
Lovely blue sky,
There's a corpse stretched
On the Strand.
Who's the man cruisin'
The corner?
Well, it's Mackie,
Knife in hand.
Jenny Towler
Poor wee Jenny,
There they found her
Knife in breast.
Mackie's wandering
On the West Pier
Hoping only
For the best.
Mind, that fire burnt
All through Soho.
Seven kids dead
One old flower.
Hey there, Mackie,
How is she cuttin'?
Have another,
Hold your hour.
And those sweet babes
Under sixteen
Story goes that
Black and blue
For the price of
One good screwing
Mackie, Mackie,
How could you?
For the price of
One good screwing
Mackie, Mackie,
How could you?
Oh, the poor shark,
Yes, the sweet shark,
It has big teeth
Buried deep.
Then there's Macheath
With his big knife,
But it's hidden
In his slip.
And this same shark,
This poor sweet shark,
It sheds red blood
When it bleeds.
Mackie Big Knife
Wears a white glove,
Pure in word and
Pure in deed.
Sunday morning
Lovely blue sky,
There's a corpse stretched
On the Strand.
Who's the man cruisin'
The corner ?
Well, it's Mackie,
Knife in hand.
Jenny Towler
Poor wee Jenny,
There they found her
Knife in breast.
Mackie's wandering
On the West Pier
Hoping only
For the best.
Mind, that fire burnt
All through Soho.
Seven kids dead
One old flower.
Hey there, Mackie,
How is she cuttin'?
Have another,
Hold your hour.
And those sweet babes
Under sixteen
Story goes that
Black and blue
For the price of
One good screwing
Mackie, Mackie,
How could you?
For the price of
One good screwing
Mackie, Mackie,
How could you?
Bertolt Brecht
przekład angielski Marc Blitzstein
*
Oh, the poor shark,
Yes, the sweet shark,
It has big teeth
Buried deep.
Then there's Macheath
With his big knife,
But it's hidden
In his slip.
And this same shark,
This poor sweet shark,
It sheds red blood
When it bleeds.
Mackie Big Knife
Wears a white glove,
Pure in word and
Pure in deed.
Sunday morning
Lovely blue sky,
There's a corpse stretched
On the Strand.
Who's the man cruisin'
The corner?
Well, it's Mackie,
Knife in hand.
Jenny Towler
Poor wee Jenny,
There they found her
Knife in breast.
Mackie's wandering
On the West Pier
Hoping only
For the best.
Mind, that fire burnt
All through Soho.
Seven kids dead
One old flower.
Hey there, Mackie,
How is she cuttin'?
Have another,
Hold your hour.
And those sweet babes
Under sixteen
Story goes that
Black and blue
For the price of
One good screwing
Mackie, Mackie,
How could you?
For the price of
One good screwing
Mackie, Mackie,
How could you?
Oh, the poor shark,
Yes, the sweet shark,
It has big teeth
Buried deep.
Then there's Macheath
With his big knife,
But it's hidden
In his slip.
And this same shark,
This poor sweet shark,
It sheds red blood
When it bleeds.
Mackie Big Knife
Wears a white glove,
Pure in word and
Pure in deed.
Sunday morning
Lovely blue sky,
There's a corpse stretched
On the Strand.
Who's the man cruisin'
The corner ?
Well, it's Mackie,
Knife in hand.
Jenny Towler
Poor wee Jenny,
There they found her
Knife in breast.
Mackie's wandering
On the West Pier
Hoping only
For the best.
Mind, that fire burnt
All through Soho.
Seven kids dead
One old flower.
Hey there, Mackie,
How is she cuttin'?
Have another,
Hold your hour.
And those sweet babes
Under sixteen
Story goes that
Black and blue
For the price of
One good screwing
Mackie, Mackie,
How could you?
For the price of
One good screwing
Mackie, Mackie,
How could you?
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