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Home  »  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse  »  Edward Sapir, trans.

Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917.

The King of Spain’s Daughter and the Diver

Edward Sapir, trans.

From “French-Canadian Folk-songs”

THE KING of Spain his daughter,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

Will have a trade be taught her,

Sail, O mariner!

Will have a trade be taught her,

Sail, O mariner!

And she’s to beat the wash,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

To beat and scald and splash,

Sail, O mariner!

She’s given a beater for smashing,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

And a fine bench for the washing,

Sail, O mariner!

At the first good rapping she—

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

Her gold ring drops in the sea,

Sail, O mariner!

She fell to earth in a heap,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

And set herself to weep,

Sail, O mariner!

Is passing now right here,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

Her gentle cavalier,

Sail, O mariner!

“And what would you give to me,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

If I looked for it out in the sea?”

Sail, O mariner!

“A sweet little kiss,” said she,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

“Or two, if you wish, or three.”

Sail, O mariner!

Undresses him eagerly,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

And dives down into the sea,

Sail, O mariner!

With his first dive and tumble,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

The sea is all in a jumble,

Sail, O mariner!

With his second dive as he sank,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

The ring went clink and clank,

Sail, O mariner!

With his third dive down,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

He stays in the sea to drown,

Sail, O mariner!

Standing the window by

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

His mother does naught but cry,

Sail, O mariner!

“Is there any maid so renowned,

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

My son must needs be drowned?

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!

My son must needs be drowned?”

Sail, O mariner—oh, sail!