Barrochan Jean

‘Barrochan Jean’ is a  humorous song written by Robert Tannahill in 1809, on hearing an old grannie in Lochwinnoch Parish relate a story something similar to the subject of the song.
Air— “Johnnie M’Gill.” Mr. John M’Gill was a famous violinist and teacher of the violin in Girvan, Ayrshire.

“It is generally accepted to have been the composition of Ayrshire musician John MacGill (c. 1707-1760), from Girvan. Besides being a fiddler, he has also been described as the town piper, and, elsewhere, a violincello player. The tune was used by Robert Burns for his song “Tibbie Dunbar” (from tunearch.org)

‘Barrochan Jean’ è una canzone umoristica scritta da Robert Tannahill nel 1809, sentendo una vecchina nella Parrocchia di Lochwinnoch raccontare una storia un po’  simile al soggetto della canzone
Aria-” Johnnie M’Gill. “Mr. John M’Gill era un famoso violinista e insegnante di violino a Girvan, Ayrshire.

“È generalmente considerata la composizione del musicista dell’Ayrshire, John MacGill (1707-1760 circa), proveniente da Girvan. Oltre ad essere un violinista, è stato anche descritto il pifferaio della città [musicista della banda cittadina] e, altrove, un violinista. Il brano è stato utilizzato da Robert Burns per la sua canzone “Tibbie Dunbar”

I
‘TIS haena ye heard, man, o Barrochan Jean ?
An haena ye heard, man, o Barrochan Jean ?
How death an starvation cam o’er the haill nation,
She wrocht sic mischief wi her twa pawkie een.
 The lads an the lasses were deein in dizzens,
The tane killed wi luve, an the ither wi spleen; 
The ploughin, the sawin, the shearin, the mawin
—A wark was forgotten for Barrochan Jean.
II
Frae the south an the north, o’er the Tweed an the Forth,
Sic comin an gangin there never was seen;
The comers were cheerie, the gangers (1) were blearie (2),
Despairin or hopin for Barrochan Jean.
The carlins at hame were a girnin and granin,
The bairns were a greetin frae mornin till e’en ;
They gat naethin for crowdie (3) but runts boiled tae sowdie,
For naethin gat growin for Barrochan Jean.
III
The doctors declared it was past their descrivin,
The ministers said ‘twas a judgment for sin ;
But they lookit sae blae, an their hearts were sae wae,
I was sure they were deein for Barrochan Jean.
The burns on roadsides were a dry wi their drinkin,
Yet a wadna sloken  the drouth in their skin ;
A roun the peatstacks, an alangst the dyke backs,
E’en the winds were a sighin, “Sweet Barrochan Jean.”
IV
The timmer ran (4) dune wi the makin o coffins,
Kirkyairds (5) o their swaird (6) were a’ howkit (7) fu clean ;
Deid lovers were packit like herrin in barrels, 
Sic thousan’s were deein for Barrochan Jean.
But mony braw thanks tae the laird o Glenbrodie, 
The grass owre their graffs is now bonnie an green :
He staw the proud heart o our wanton young leddie, 
An spoilt a the charms o’ her twa pawkie een.

John Morran in The Complete Songs of Robert Tannahill Volume I (2006)

Sam Monaghan in The Tannahill Song Book 2000

English translation
I
‘TIS have not you heard, man, of Barrochan Jean ?
And have not you heard, man, of Barrochan Jean ?
How death and starvation came over the whole nation,
She caused such trouble  with her two roguish eyes
The lads and the lasses were dying in dozens
The one killed with love, an the other with spleen ; 
The ploughing, the sowing, the shearing, the mowing—
All work was forgotten for Barrochan Jean.
II
From the south and the north,
over the Tweed an the Forth, 
Such coming and going there never was seen;
The gossips were cheerful, the visitors (1) were gloomy (2), 
Despairing or hoping for Barrochan Jean.
The children at home were lamenting and groaning,
The babies were crying  from morning till even ;
They got nothing for breakfast (3)
but cabbage stalks boiled to broth, 
For nothing got growing for Barrochan Jean.
III
The doctors declared it was past their descriving,
The ministers said it was a judgment for sin ;
But they looked so blue, an their hearts were so woe,
I was sure they were dying for Barrochan Jean.
The streams on road-sides were all dry with their drinking,
Yet all would not sloken the drought in their skin ;
All around the peat-stacks,
and alongst the back of the walls,
Even the winds were all sighing,“Sweet Barrochan Jean.”
IV
The slab-wood (4) done with the making of coffins,
churchyards (5) of their turf/sword(6)
were all digged (7) full clean ;
Dead lovers were packed like herring in barrels, 
Such thousands were dying for Barrochan Jean.
But many fine thanks to the laird of Glenbrodie, 
The grass over their graves is now bonnie and green :
He stole the proud heart
of our haughty young lady, 
And spoiled all the charms from her two roguish eyes

Traduzione italiana Cattia Salto
I
Non hai saputo, amico di Barrochan Jean ?
Non hai saputo, amico di Barrochan Jean ?
Come la morte e la fame si riversarono su tutta la nazione,
lei ha causato tanti guai con i suoi occhi civettuoli
i ragazzi e le ragazze morivano a dozzine 
quello ucciso dall’amore, l’altro dalla malinconia;
l’aratura, la semina, il raccolto, la falciatura:
ogni lavoro era trascurato per Barrochan Jean.
II
Da sud e da nord,
oltre il Tweed e il Forth,
un tale andirivieni non fu mai visto;
le comari erano allegre, i visitatori erano cupi,
disperando o spasimando per Barrochan Jean.
I ragazzi a casa si lamentavano e gemevano,
i bambini piangevano dal mattino fino a sera,
non avevano altro per colazione
che torsi di cavolo bolliti nella zuppa,
perché niente riusciva a crescere per Barrochan Jean.
III
I dottori dissero che ciò superava il loro discernimento
i sacerdoti dissero che era il castigo per il peccato;
ma loro sembravano così tristi e i cuori erano così in pena
di sicuro stavano morendo per Barrochan Jean.
I rivi al fianco delle strade erano a secco per le loro bevute
eppure niente avrebbero spento l’arsura sotto la loro pelle
intorno ai cumuli di torba,
lungo il retro dei muri,
anche i venti sospiravano, “dolce Barrochan Jean”.
IV
Le assi di legno fatte per la fabbricazione delle bare,
i cimiteri ???
erano tutti scavati con cura;
gli amanti morti erano stipati come aringhe nel barile
migliaia di persone, morivano per Barrochan Jean.
Ma tante belle grazie al signorotto di Glenbrodie,
l’erba sopra le loro tombe è ora bella e verde:
egli rubò il cuore orgoglioso
della nostra giovane donna altezzosa,
e spogliò tutto fascino  dai suoi occhi civettuoli