Stan Hugill translated this German forebitter from the Knurrkahn. It is "a little more sentimental than the typical German seasongs". Hugill sang it aboard a bark out of Bremen as late as 1928.
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Oh, lively there, all hands on deck! Ch: Hol-la hi, hol-la he, hol-la ho! No trying for to save your necks, Ch: Hol-la hi, hol-la he, hol-la ho! There's blowin' now one hell of a gale, All hands hang lively, snug down sail! Ch: Hol-la hi, hol-la he, hol-la ho!
Up boys an' reef them tops'ls tall, Make all things fast both big and small, Pick up your courage, show you're stout, What damn fine fellows, let 'em shout.
Oh, hear the mainmast creak and crack, The mighty wind is roaring back, The lightning on the horizon, Is battlin' with the silver moon.
The seas are risin'- great in size, They're racin' up towards the skies. A big one 'scends, the rollin' wave, As if to draw us to a sailor's grave.
A great sea lands upon teh deck, If ye don't look out 'twill wash your neck, The man at the wheel grips the spikes in his hand, To keep her 'way off from the land.
The Old Man weighs his chances again, And the strength of the hellish hurricane, He then shouts out his orders clear, And thinks of his wife and children dear.
And you there on your pillows soft, Just think how hard is a seaman's lot, While you sit drinkin' of your wine, For sailors it is "Rise an' shine!"
Look! You there on a wild night's spree, With Love and Beauty on your knee, Between the sea and sky half dead, So works the seaman for his bread.
Then sing his praises, all you folk, With a stout heart he wears his yoke, Honor, esteem, and glory, too, These are our splendid sea-folk's due.