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Ye brave young sons of Erin's isle
I hope you will attend a while
To the wrongs of dear old Ireland I'm going to relate
'Twas black and cursed was the day
That our Parliament was taken away
And all our grief and suffering commences from that day
Our hearty sons and daughters fair
To other countries must repair
And leave their native lands behind in sorrow to deplore
For to seek employment they must roam
Far far away from their native home
From that sore oppressed island that they call the Shamrock Shore

Now Ireland is with plenty blessed
But the people they are sore oppressed
All by those cursed tyrants we are forced for to obey
Some haughty landlords for to please
Our houses and our lands they'll seize
To put fifty farms into one and take us all away
Regardless of the widow's cries
The mother's tears and the orphan's sighs
In thousands we are driven from home
which grieves our hearts full sore
We are fraught by famine and disease
We emigrated across the seas
From that sore oppressed island that they call the Shamrock Shore

Our sustenance is taken away
Our tithes and taxes for to pay
To support that law-protected church to which they do adhere
And our Irish gentry, well you know
To other countries they do go
And the money from all Ireland is squandered here and there
But if those squires would stay at home
And not to other countries roam
But to build mills and factories here to employ the labouring core
For if we had trade and commerce fair
To me no nation could compare
To that sore oppressed island that they call the Shamrock Shore

John Bull he boasts and he laughs with scorn
And he says that Irish man is born
To be always discontented for at home he cannot agree
But we'll banish discord from our land
And in harmony like brothers stand
To demand the rights of Ireland let us all united be!
Our Parliament and College Green
For to assemble 'twill be seen
And happy days in Erin's isle we soon will have once more
Then dear old Ireland soon will be
A great and glorious country
And peace and blessings soon will smile all 'round the Shamrock Shore!

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# Posté le jeudi 12 novembre 2009 14:24

Verlaine

Il pleure dans mon cœur
Comme il pleut sur la ville ;
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénètre mon cœur ?

Ô bruit doux de la pluie
Par terre et sur les toits !
Pour un cœur qui s'ennuie,
Ô le chant de la pluie !

Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce cœur qui s'écoeure.
Quoi ! nulle trahison ?...
Ce deuil est sans raison.

C'est bien la pire peine
De ne savoir pourquoi
Sans amour et sans haine
Mon cœur a tant de peine !

VERLAINE.

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# Posté le mercredi 11 novembre 2009 12:33