Καλλιτεχνικός Σύλλογος Δημοτικής Μουσικής Δόμνα Σαμίου

It is the feast of Lazarus, the feast of Palms is nigh.
– Where were you, Lazarus, where did you hide yourself?
– Why, I was in the tomb, entombed within the earth.
Give me, give me cool spring water, my mouth is full of bitter poison.
– Rise up, Lazarus, don’t fall asleep,
your mother’s come here from the City,¹
she’s brought you paper and prayer-beads.
– Palms, Palm Sunday palms, we eat fish and mackerel,
and when next Sunday dawns, we’ll be eating the fat lamb.
– Your henny-penny lays so many eggs,
there’s no room left inside your nesting-box.
Give us some eggs, for we’ll enjoy them,
and next year we’ll be back again.
– My basket wants an egg in it,
so does my pocket want an eggsby.
– Lasarina, poultry maid, put an egg into the basket.
Many happy returns!

Translated by John Leatham

¹City: Constantinople