Ab Banjo Patterson \ It was the man from Ironbark who struck the Sydney town, He wandered over street and park, he wandered up and down. He loitered here, he loitered there, till he was like to drop, Until at last in sheer despair he sought a barber's shop. "'Ere! shave my beard and whiskers off, I'll be a man of mark, I'll go and do the Sydney toff up home in Ironbark." The barber man was small and flash, as barbers mostly are, He wore a strike-your-fancy sash, he smoked a huge cigar; He was a humorist of note and keen at repartee, He laid the odds and kept a "tote", whatever that may be, And when he saw our friend arrive, he whispered, "Here's a lark! Just watch me catch him all alive, this man from Ironbark." There were some gilded youths that sat along the barber's wall. Their eyes were dull, their heads were flat, they had no brains at all; To them the barber passed the wink, his dexter eyelid shut, "I'll make this bloomin' yokel think his bloomin' throat is cut." And as he soaped and rubbed it in he made a rude remark: "I s'pose the flats is pretty green up there in Ironbark." A grunt was all reply he got; he shaved the bushman's chin, Then made the water boiling hot and dipped the razor in. He raised his hand, his brow grew black, he paused awhile to gloat, Then slashed the red-hot razor-back across his victim's throat: Upon the newly-shaven skin it made a livid mark - No doubt it fairly took him in - the man from Ironbark. He fetched a wild up-country yell might wake the dead to hear, And though his throat, he knew full well, was cut from ear to ear, He struggled gamely to his feet, and faced the murd'rous foe: "You've done for me! you dog, I'm beat! one hit before I go! I only wish I had a knife, you blessed murdering shark! But you'll remember all your life the man from Ironbark." He lifted up his hairy paw, with one tremendous clout He landed on the barber's jaw, and knocked the barber out. He set to work with nail and tooth, he made the place a wreck; He grabbed the nearest gilded youth, and tried to break his neck. And all the while his throat he held to save his vital spark, And "Murder! Bloody murder!" yelled the man from Ironbark. A peeler man who heard the din came in to see the show; He tried to run the bushman in, but he refused to go. And when at last the barber spoke, and said "'Twas all in fun— 'Twas just a little harmless joke, a trifle overdone." "A joke!" he cried, "By George, that's fine; a lively sort of lark; I'd like to catch that murdering swine some night in Ironbark." And now while round the shearing floor the list'ning shearers gape, He tells the story o'er and o'er, and brags of his escape. "Them barber chaps what keeps a tote, By George, I've had enough, One tried to cut my bloomin' throat, but thank the Lord it's tough." And whether he's believed or no, there's one thing to remark, That flowing beards are all the go way up in Ironbark. The Bulletin, 17 December 1892.
My all time favourite is the following one - although you DO have to decipher the "Scottish accent" THE GREAT CALAMITY by A.B. "Banjo" Paterson MacFierce'un came to Whiskeyhurst When summer days were hot, And bided there wi' Jock McThirst, A brawny brother Scot. Gude Faith! They made the whisky fly, Like Highland chieftains true, And when they'd drunk the beaker dry They sang "We are nae fou!" "There is nae folk like oor ain folk, Sae gallant and sae true." They sang the only Scottish joke Which is, "We are nae fou." Said bold McThirst, "Let Saxons jaw Aboot their great concerns, But bonny Scotland beats them a', The land o' cakes and Burns, The land o' partridge, deer, and grouse, Fill up your glass, I beg, There's muckle whusky i' the house, Forbye what's in the keg." And here a hearty laugh he laughed, "Just come wi' me, I beg." MacFierce'un saw with pleasure daft A fifty-gallon keg. "Losh, man, that's grand," MacFierce'un cried, "Saw ever man the like, Now, wi' the daylight, I maun ride To meet a Southron tyke, But I'll be back ere summer's gone, So bide for me, I beg, We'll make a grand assault upon Yon deevil of a keg." MacFierce'un rode to Whiskeyhurst, When summer days were gone, And there he met with Jock McThirst Was greetin' all alone. "McThirst what gars ye look sae blank? Have all yer wits gane daft? Has that accursed Southron bank Called up your overdraft? Is all your grass burnt up wi' drouth? Is wool and hides gone flat?" McThirst replied, "Gude friend, in truth, 'Tis muckle waur than that." "Has sair misfortune cursed your life That you should weep sae free? Is harm upon your bonny wife, The children at your knee? Is scaith upon your house and hame?' McThirst upraised his head: "My bairns hae done the deed of shame -- 'Twere better they were dead. "To think my bonny infant son Should do the deed o' guilt -- He let the whuskey spigot run, and a' the whuskey's spilt!" Upon them both these words did bring A solemn silence deep, Gude faith, it is a fearsome thing To see two strong men weep. http://www.middlemiss.org/lit/authors/patersonab/poetry/greatcalamity.html Had the opportunity to go to Winton a couple of months ago - it is very worthwhile to visit. You would not believe the quality of the "Matilda Centre" out there and the wonderful holographic display for "Waltzing Matilda"
Yes, another good one. One more of my favourites which I was able to recite most of when I was younger is The man from Snowy river. Leonard Teale (RIP) once gave a magnificent (imo) rendition of this.
Teal was a fabulous reciter of Patterson's poems - I once saw him in person doing this - very very enjoyable. I also enjoy the "Saltbush Bill" poems but did you want to have this as a general discussion on Aussie poets or just about Banjo?
Im happy for this thread to flow, I actually had a few drinks when I posted Banjos poem. But yeah, Saltbush Bill takes me back. Jollifee also used this moniker as the main character for his now very politically incorrect cartoons.
Does anyone remember the Aussie folk band Wallis and Matilda? They put music to many of Banjo's poems....Fabulous!! www.wallisandmatilda.com.au
When you look at how he drew his indigenous people they were drawn with beauty and less "caricatured" than his drawing of white people One of my favourite Jolliffe drawings of all time was titled something like "Australia's current defence plan" and a picture of large spears strapped to tied down palm trees a la a catapult and the indigenous person was saying to the white army officer "Not only that but they are tipped with Taipan Venom"
That does bring back memories. What I like about them is that the "flavour" is closer to real Australian folk music than the faux country and western many CLAIM is ours
Ha!! that is alright but for yonks now I have been trying to work out what your avatar is a picture of - I know it was a "Sci fi" beastie but which movie? Anyways back to the topic So, exploring out beyond Banjo to a lesser known but still enjoyable Aussie poet I present C. J. Dennis and an excerpt from "Joi the Glug" and the Glugs of Gosh http://www.middlemiss.org/lit/authors/denniscj/glugs/joi.html All a rather whimsical commentary on conformity
I know a little place only 4 hours out of Sydney where every two weeks they have a bush dance. Now this is not some commercially done modern revisit. The small community that runs the dance do not advertise. Most of the people that attend, attend each and every dance. The band that plays at the dance has just celebrated 75 years, it is a family band, and like the people at the dance have been going for generations
Ghost Gum - Albert Namatjira Namatjira Aboriginal man, you walked with pride, And painted with joy the countryside. Original man, your fame grew fast, Men pointed you out as you went past. But vain the honour and tributes paid, For you strangled in rules the white men made; You broke no law of your own wild clan Which says "Share all with your fellow-man". What did their loud acclaim avail Who gave you honour, then gave you jail? Namatjira, they boomed your art, They called you genius, then broke your heart. - Kath Walker -
Kath Walker - thank you Gwen what a wonderful addition to our poetry thread. I went looking for one of my all time favourite bush poems - "How MacDougall topped the score" and came across this You tube version!! [ame="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EbCJCjBWvxo"]The Day McDougal Topped the Score - YouTube[/ame]
The Namatjira poem I remember as a young child. It stayed with me, I remember loving that poem as a child. How MacDougall topped the score, a fantastic bush poem, Bowerbird. The humour is clever and infectious. An incredibly well-crafted, well-honed poem. A fun excerpt here: He held the bat the wrong side out, and Johnson with a grin Stepped lightly to the bowling crease, and sent a "wobbler" in; M'Dougal spooned it softly back, and Johnson waited there, But M'Dougal, crying "Fetch it!" started running like a hare. Molongo shouted "Victory! He's out as sure as eggs," When Pinched started through the crowd, and ran through Johnson's legs. He seized the ball like lightning; then he ran behind a log, An M'Dougal kept on running, while Molongo chased the dog!
I had the rare privilege when growing up of going to Salisbury High School in Brisbane - the headmaster there had bought a whole load of Namatjira paintings and they were hanging in the admin office. Heaven knows where they are today of course, possibly in the minister for Educations' office!! Okay for all my compatriots who like the bush humour of our bush poetry I give you this little gem!! http://www.middlemiss.org/lit/authors/obrienj/poetry/tangmalangaloo.html
When I was in primary school, each class had a class "patron", usually an iconic Australian from the arts,, ours was Albert Namatjira. In our classroom we had a selection of Namatjira prints that would be relocated as we changed classrooms.
