Rise! Rise! A glorious day is breaking,
A bleeding country asks our aid,
Our slumbrous slavery forsaking,
Throw off the chains our race degrade!
Throw off the chains our race degrade!
With God and Man our cause sustaining,
By weakness we have given too long
The fight unjust unto the strong,
We’ ll conquer now, the Right maintaining,
Arise! our night is o’er,
Rise! rise! from shore to shore.
Arise! arise! ere Freedom dies,
For them we’ ll starve no more!
Columbia! strong angel, aid us,
Across the waters hear our cry –
Than live the sad serfs they have made us,
Far better it were we should die!
Far better it were we should die!
Alas, for weeping Freedom’s glory,
Behold an ancient, war-spent race,
Unarmed, unshielded, face to face
With Tyranny, mail-clad and gory.
Arise! our night is o’er,
Rise! rise! from shore to shore.
Arise! arise! ere Freedom dies,
For them we’ ll starve no more!
Go tell us who are those our masters,
That should grace their feast as slaves,
Should bear for them all life’s disasters,
And, dying, fall in pauper graves!
And, dying, fall in pauper graves!
Are they spoilers of our nation?
Are they the spawn of treacherous foes?
Are they the flatterers on our woes,
Whose glory is our degradation?
Arise! our night is o’er,
Rise! rise! from shore to shore.
Arise! arise! ere Freedom dies,
For them we’ ll starve no more!
O, Famine Graves! Whose jaws have caught us,
O, Ships that sunk us in the sea,
We know the lessons ye have taught us,
No more, no more your prey we’ ll be!
No more, no more your prey we’ ll be!
Who says our toils are never-ending?
Who says that we must ever kneel,
A People at a Hireling’s heel?
Nay, better die our homes defending.
A bleeding country asks our aid,
Our slumbrous slavery forsaking,
Throw off the chains our race degrade!
Throw off the chains our race degrade!
With God and Man our cause sustaining,
By weakness we have given too long
The fight unjust unto the strong,
We’ ll conquer now, the Right maintaining,
Arise! our night is o’er,
Rise! rise! from shore to shore.
Arise! arise! ere Freedom dies,
For them we’ ll starve no more!
Columbia! strong angel, aid us,
Across the waters hear our cry –
Than live the sad serfs they have made us,
Far better it were we should die!
Far better it were we should die!
Alas, for weeping Freedom’s glory,
Behold an ancient, war-spent race,
Unarmed, unshielded, face to face
With Tyranny, mail-clad and gory.
Arise! our night is o’er,
Rise! rise! from shore to shore.
Arise! arise! ere Freedom dies,
For them we’ ll starve no more!
Go tell us who are those our masters,
That should grace their feast as slaves,
Should bear for them all life’s disasters,
And, dying, fall in pauper graves!
And, dying, fall in pauper graves!
Are they spoilers of our nation?
Are they the spawn of treacherous foes?
Are they the flatterers on our woes,
Whose glory is our degradation?
Arise! our night is o’er,
Rise! rise! from shore to shore.
Arise! arise! ere Freedom dies,
For them we’ ll starve no more!
O, Famine Graves! Whose jaws have caught us,
O, Ships that sunk us in the sea,
We know the lessons ye have taught us,
No more, no more your prey we’ ll be!
No more, no more your prey we’ ll be!
Who says our toils are never-ending?
Who says that we must ever kneel,
A People at a Hireling’s heel?
Nay, better die our homes defending.
envoyé par Bernart - 16/7/2013 - 12:06
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Testo incluso in “Songs in Irish Emigrant Ballads and Songs”, a cura di Robert L. Wright, 1975
Come la contemporanea tedesca Reveille, anche questa canzone fu scritta sull’aria della “Marseillaise” di Rouget de l'Isle.
Alla fine degli anni 30 dell’800 alcuni intellettuali irlandesi, tra i quali il parlamentare William Smith O'Brien, il poeta Thomas Davis e gli scrittori John Blake Dillon e Michael Doheny, fondarono un movimento politico culturale nazionalista chiamato “Éire Óg”, “Young Ireland”. Una delegazione di “Young Irelanders” si recò a Parigi qualche tempo prima dell’avvento della Seconda Repubblica, quando la capitale francese era già sotto il controllo degli insorti contro Luigi Filippo ed il suo governo. Tornarono in Irlanda impugnando il tricolore e nel luglio del 1848 si sollevarono contro il dominatore britannico. L’insurrezione, limitata a sole tre contee, non ebbe successo e fu subito stroncata dal durissimo intervento della polizia, la Royal Irish Constabulary (RIC). I leader nazionalisti furono arrestati e deportati nei bagni penali della Terra di Van Diemen, in Australia. Alcuni riuscirono a riparare in Francia e negli USA e diedero poi vita ad organizzazioni come la Fenian Brotherhood e la Irish Republican Brotherhood, protagoniste della guerra d’indipendenza del 1919-21 e zoccolo duro dell’Irish Republican Army (IRA).