Καλλιτεχνικός Σύλλογος Δημοτικής Μουσικής Δόμνα Σαμίου

What am I, poor wretch, to do with the wife I’ve got?
In Jan’ry month and Feb’ry too she leads me off to harvest.
I reaped the corn, I threshed the crop, despite the rain and snow,
and as I stacked it up in ricks, why, icicles hung down.

I packed it in, oh woe was me, and then made tracks for home.
I found the mistress of the house inside with friends of hers,
and they were baking sweetmeats there and also frying eggs.
I put my hand out, wretched me, to help myself to one;
she grabbed the metal slice, she did, and gave my hand a thwack.

– You knave, I didn’t say you could, you pander, pimp, and ponce.

The while I’ve got my friends with me you stay outside, you see?
and only when my friends are gone can you then come inside.

The pig-swill’s in the broken crock: eat your fill and burst;
and yon’s the sty where piggy sleeps: lie down in there and kip.

Translated by John Leatham