The Famine

Oh!Father dear, I often hear
You speak of Erin´s Isle
Her lofty scenes and valleys green
Her mountains green and wild.
They say it is a lovely land,
Wherein a prince might dwell
And why did you abbandon it,
The reason me to tell!

My son! I loved my native land
With energy and pride
Till the blight came ov´r all my crop,
My sheep my cattle died.
My rent and taxes were to pay,
I could not them redeem,
And that´s the only reason why
I left old Skibbereen

Your mother too, God rest her soul,
Fell on the snowy ground
She fainted in her anguish,
at the desolation round,
She never rose,but passed away
From life to mortal dreams,
And found a quiet resting place
In the Abbey near Skibbereen.

And you were only two years old,
And feeble was your frame
I could not leave you with your friends,
You bare your father´s name.
I wrapt you in my coat more
At the dead of night unseen,
I heaved asign and bade Good-Bye
To dear old Skibbereen.

Oh, father day!The Day is near
When in answer to the call
Each irish man and woman,
Will rally one and all.
I´ll be the man to lead the clan,
Beneath the flag of green
When low and high we rise the cry:
Revenge for Skibbereen

Worum geht es?

Deutsche Übersetzung

Zurück zur Übersicht Poetry