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The Man from Snowy River (1) [Man from Snowy River]

The Man from Snowy River (1)

There was movement at the station, for the word had
  passed around

That the colt from old Regret had gone away,
And had joined the wild bush horses ー he was worth a
 thousand pond,
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.

04 - 10.jpg
station image

All the tried and noted riders from the station near and far
Had mustered at the homestead overnight,
For the bushman love hard riding where the wild bush
 horse are,
And the stock-horse snuffs the battle with delight.

(1/8)


少し変わっているのですが、オーストラリアのPoem詩です。つなげて読みますと、物語になっています。

アンドルー・バートン・“バンジョー”・パターソン(Andrew Barton "Banjo" Paterson, 1864年2月17日 - 1941年250日)は、オーストラリアの詩人、ジャーナリスト、著作家。Banjo の名で著作を公表したため、Banjo Paterson とも称される。

そのままの朗読です。

(聴き取りにくいのですがー馬はたくさん出てきます)

Banjo Paterson wrote the poem 'The Man From Snowy River'.
Its as Australian as you can get. He tells the story of the tough horsemen of Snowy Mountains.
Footage is from the movie 'Man From Snowy River' presented by Michael Edgley International & Cambridge Films. 


The Man from Snowy River (2) [Man from Snowy River]

The Man from Snowy River (2)

There was Harrison, who made his pile when Pardon won
  the cup,
The old man with his hair as white as snow;
But few could ride beside him when his blood was fairly
  up ー
He would go wherever horse and man could go.
And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand,
No better horseman ever held the reins;
For never horse could throw him while the saddle-girths
  would stand ー
He learnt to ride while droving on the plains.

And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy beast;
He was something like a racehorse undersized,
With a touch of Timor pony ー three parts thoroughbred at
  least ー
And such as are by mountain horsemen prized.

(2/8)  
  


The Man from Snowy River (3) [Man from Snowy River]

The Man from Snowy River (3)

He was hard and tough and wiry ー just the sort that won't
  say die ー
There was courage in his quick impatient tread;
And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery
  eye,
And the proud and lofty carriage of his head.

But still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to
  stay,
And the old man said,
" That horse will never do
For a long and tiring gallop ー lad, you'd better stop away,
Those hills are far too rough for such as you. " 

So he waited, sad and wistful ー only Clancy stood his
  friend ー
" I think we ought to let him come, " he said;
" I warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end,
For both his horse and he are mountain bred.

(3/8)
どうも、ちょっと、詩Poem ですので、つなぎが難しいところがあり、すみません。


The Man from Snowy River (4) [Man from Snowy River]

The Man from Snowy River (4)

" He hails from snowy River, up by Kosciusko's side,
Where the hills are twice as steep and twice as rough;
Where a horse's hoof strike firelight from the flint stones
  every stride,
The man that holds his own is good enough.
And the Snowy River riders on the mountains make their
  home,
Where the river runs those giant hills between;
I have seen full many horsemen since I first commenced to
  roam,
But nowhere yet such horsemen have I seen. "

So he went;
 ーthey found the horses by the big mimosa clump,
They raced away towards the mountain's brow,
And the old man gave his orders, " Boys, go at them from the
  jump,
No use try for fancy raiding now.
And, Clancy, you must wheel them, try and wheel them to
  the right.
Ride boldly, lad, and never fear the spills,
For never yet was rider that could keep the mob in sight,
If once they again the shelter of those hills. "

(4/8)
 


The Man from Snowy River (5) [Man from Snowy River]

The Man from Snowy River (5)

So Clancy rode to wheel them ー he was racing on the wing
Where the best and bolder rider take their place,
And he raced his stock-horse past them, and he made the
  ranges ring
With the stockwhip, as he met them face to face.

Then they halted for a moment, while he swung the dreaded 
  lash,
But they saw their well-loved mountain full in view,
And they changed beneath the stockwhip with a sharp and
  sudden dash,
And off into the mountain scrub they flew. 

10 - 1.jpg
こういう雰囲気で追いかけているものと。
この写真はじきに消失します。


(5/8)

The Man from Snowy River (6) [Man from Snowy River]

The Man from Snowy River (6)

Then fast the horsemen followed, where the gorges deep
  and black
Resounded to thunder of their tread,
And the stockwhips woke the echoes, and they fiercely
  andswered back
From cliffs and crags that beetled overhead.
And upward, ever upward, the wild horses held their way,
Whhere mountain ash and kurrajong grew wide;
And the old man muttered fiercely, " We may bid the mob
  good day,
No man can hold them down the other side. "

When they reached the mountain's summit, even Clancy
  took a pull ー
It well might make the boldest hold their breath;
The wild hop scrub grew thickly, and the hidden ground
  was full
Of wmbat holes, and any slip was death.
But the man from Snowy River let the pony have his head,
And he swung his stockwhip round and gave a cheer,
And he raced him down the mountain like a torrent down
  its bed,
While the others stood and watched in very fear.

10 - 11.jpg
参考

(6/8)


The Man from Snowy River (7) [Man from Snowy River]

The Man from Snowy River (7)

He sent the flint-stones flying, but the pony kept his feet,
He cleared the fallen timber in his stride,
And the man from Snowy River never shifted in his seat ー
It was grand to see that mountain horsemen ride.
Through the stringy barks and saplings, on the rough and
  broken ground,
Down the hillside at a racing pace he went;
And he never drew the bridle till he landed safe and sound
At the bottom of that terrible descent.

He was right among the horses as they climbed the farther
  hill,
And the watchers on the mountain, standing mute,
Saw him ply the stockwhip fiercely; he was right among
  them still,
As he raced across the clearing in pursuit.
Then they lost him for a moment, where two ountain
  gullies met
In the ranges ー but a final glimpse reveals
On a di and distant hillside the wild horses racing yet,
With the man from Snowy River at their heels.

(7/8)


The Man from Snowy River (8 完) [Man from Snowy River]

The Man from Snowy River (8)

And he ran them single-handed till their sides were white
   with foam;
He followed like a bloodhound on their track,
Till they halted, cowed and beaten; then he turned their
  heads for home,
And alone and unassisten brought them back.
But his hardly mountain pony he could scarcely raise a trot,
He was blood from hip to shoulder from the spur;
But his pluck was still undaunted, and his courage fiery
  hot,
For never yet was mountain horse a cur.

And down by Kosciusko, where the pine-clad ridges raise
Their torn and rugged battlements on high,
Where the air is clear as crystal, and white stars fairly
  blaze
At midnight in the cold and frosty sky,
And where around the Overflow the reed-beds sweep and
  sway
To the breezes, and the rolling plains are wide,
The Man from Snowy River is a household word today,
And the stockmen tell the story of his ride.

(8/8 完)


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