You may talk o' gin and beer
When you're quartered safe out 'ere,
An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it;
But when it comes to slaughter
You will do your work on water,
An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it.
Now in Injia's sunny clime,
Where I used to spend my time
A-servin' of 'Er Majesty the Queen,
Of all them blackfaced crew
The finest man I knew
Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din.
He was "Din! Din! Din!
You limpin' lump o' brick-dust, Gunga Din!
Hi! slippery ~hitherao~!
Water, get it! ~Panee lao~! [Bring water swiftly.]
You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din."
The uniform 'e wore
Was nothin' much before,
An' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind,
For a piece o' twisty rag
An' a goatskin water-bag
Was all the field-equipment 'e could find.
When the sweatin' troop-train lay
In a sidin' through the day,
Where the 'eat would make your bloomin' eyebrows crawl,
We shouted "Harry By!" [Mr. Atkins's equivalent for "O brother."]
Till our throats were bricky-dry,
Then we wopped 'im 'cause 'e couldn't serve us all.
It was "Din! Din! Din!
You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you been?
You put some ~juldee~ in it [Be quick.]
Or I'll ~marrow~ you this minute [Hit you.]
If you don't fill up my helmet, Gunga Din!"
'E would dot an' carry one
Till the longest day was done;
An' 'e didn't seem to know the use o' fear.
If we charged or broke or cut,
You could bet your bloomin' nut,
'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear.
With 'is ~mussick~ on 'is back, [Water-skin.]
'E would skip with our attack,
An' watch us till the bugles made "Retire",
An' for all 'is dirty 'ide
'E was white, clear white, inside
When 'e went to tend the wounded under fire!
It was "Din! Din! Din!"
With the bullets kickin' dust-spots on the green.
When the cartridges ran out,
You could hear the front-files shout,
"Hi! ammunition-mules an' Gunga Din!"
I shan't forgit the night
When I dropped be'ind the fight
With a bullet where my belt-plate should 'a' been.
I was chokin' mad with thirst,
An' the man that spied me first
Was our good old grinnin', gruntin' Gunga Din.
'E lifted up my 'ead,
An' he plugged me where I bled,
An' 'e guv me 'arf-a-pint o' water-green:
It was crawlin' and it stunk,
But of all the drinks I've drunk,
I'm gratefullest to one from Gunga Din.
It was "Din! Din! Din!
'Ere's a beggar with a bullet through 'is spleen;
'E's chawin' up the ground,
An' 'e's kickin' all around:
For Gawd's sake git the water, Gunga Din!"
'E carried me away
To where a dooli lay,
An' a bullet come an' drilled the beggar clean.
'E put me safe inside,
An' just before 'e died,
"I 'ope you liked your drink", sez Gunga Din.
So I'll meet 'im later on
At the place where 'e is gone —
Where it's always double drill and no canteen;
'E'll be squattin' on the coals
Givin' drink to poor damned souls,
An' I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din!
Yes, Din! Din! Din!
You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din!
Though I've belted you and flayed you,
By the livin' Gawd that made you,
You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!
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great poem
From guest India Gray (contact)
when i first read this i did not understand it but i asked mt reading teacher about gunga din she explained the poem.I think is so great. -
There may have been better poets than Kipling
But VERY VERY few.
Until his world was torn apart by the Great War his was the undisputed voice of the common soldier, and it still reads true today. Of course you couldn't get away with writing this today
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I knew the last line of this poem before I even knew it was a poem. 2 of my Uncles who had fought in WW2 often used to say this to each other. A rose-coloured view of British 'ownership' i feel but Gunga Din is a real champion in my eyes - the brave Water carrier.
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From guest Malcolm Davies (contact)
Fine examplr of Kipling's skill at writing in dialect. This poem cannot be read in any other way than with a cockney accent. Typically Kipling - supreme craftsmanship!! I love it too! Malcolm Davies -
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Whilst I concur that this is a fine example of Kipling writing in the idiomatic labguage of the common soldier I can't agree with the cockney claim. Having been fortunate enough to hear the performances of the magnificent Widow's Uniform which had Kipling as a central character and his poems as the unifying theme it is clear that his work can be read in any regional accent of what might be called the common-classes and still sound right. The key thing being that his poetry is better heard than read (or at least if read then read out-loud).
I would also commend the many sung version of Kipling's work when married to the tunes of the late Peter Bellamy. They are a truly happy blend of words and music.
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This let's you know how a soldier (and native troops) survived or didn't. Just as relavent today, as when Kipling worte it.
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I had never heard of this poem - I absolutely love it. It's so well written...truly a great piece.
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Definitely a great poem. Says a good deal in a good way too. Very inspiring, Mr. Kipling. A pity I never could say this to you in your face.
~CT -
And this is why I write poetry, because some of the greats who inspire me, and Rudyard Kipling, is indeed one of the greats.
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Perhaps his most famous poem! This poem says alot... 'no matter how you treat me...we are humans and i'll never stop treating you wrong despite the cruelity that you've shown me.' Any person will recongnize that! After all,the solider did admit...
"Though I've belted you and flayed you,
By the livin' Gawd that made you,
You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din!"
~CWM~
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The best poem ever written, in any language!
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