In Dublin city in 1913
The boss was boss and employed a slave
The woman worked while the child went hungry
Then Larkin came like a towering wave.
The worker cringed when the bossman thundered
And seventy hours was his weekly chore
He asked for little and less was granted
Lest getting little he'd ask for more.
Then God sent Larkin, so dark and handsome
A mighty man with a powerful tongue
The voice of labour the voice of justice
And he was gifted and he was young.
Then God sent Larkin in 1913
A powerful man with a gifted tongue
He raised the worker and gave him courage
He was the hero the worker sung.
In the month of August the bossman told us
No union man for him could work
We stood by Larkin we told the bossman
To fight, to starve we would not shirk.
Eight months we faught and eight months we starved
We followed Larkin through thick and thin
But foodless homes and the crying children
They broke our hearts and we coild not win.
Then Larkin left us, we seemed defeated
The night was dark for us working men
But Connolly rose with new hope and council
He gave the slogan "We'll rise again!"
In Dublin Citry in 1916
The British army burnt down the town
They shelled the city they took the leaders
The harp was buried beneath the crown.
They shot MacDonagh and Pearse and Plunkett
They shot MacDermott and Clark the brave.
From bleak Kilmainham they took Ceannt's body
To Arbor Hill to a quicklime grave.
But last of all of the seven captains
A dying man they shot Connolly
The voice of labour, the voice of justice
Who gave his life that men might be free.
The boss was boss and employed a slave
The woman worked while the child went hungry
Then Larkin came like a towering wave.
The worker cringed when the bossman thundered
And seventy hours was his weekly chore
He asked for little and less was granted
Lest getting little he'd ask for more.
Then God sent Larkin, so dark and handsome
A mighty man with a powerful tongue
The voice of labour the voice of justice
And he was gifted and he was young.
Then God sent Larkin in 1913
A powerful man with a gifted tongue
He raised the worker and gave him courage
He was the hero the worker sung.
In the month of August the bossman told us
No union man for him could work
We stood by Larkin we told the bossman
To fight, to starve we would not shirk.
Eight months we faught and eight months we starved
We followed Larkin through thick and thin
But foodless homes and the crying children
They broke our hearts and we coild not win.
Then Larkin left us, we seemed defeated
The night was dark for us working men
But Connolly rose with new hope and council
He gave the slogan "We'll rise again!"
In Dublin Citry in 1916
The British army burnt down the town
They shelled the city they took the leaders
The harp was buried beneath the crown.
They shot MacDonagh and Pearse and Plunkett
They shot MacDermott and Clark the brave.
From bleak Kilmainham they took Ceannt's body
To Arbor Hill to a quicklime grave.
But last of all of the seven captains
A dying man they shot Connolly
The voice of labour, the voice of justice
Who gave his life that men might be free.
envoyé par Alessandro - 28/9/2009 - 21:25
Thanks for printing these lyrics and also for acknowledging the role of Niall McDonagh in their composing, which doesn't usually get a mention.
Since the lyrics were published singers have altered them slightly and a number of such versions exist.
Whether it is an error in transcription I do not know but "He raised the worker and gave him courage/He was the hero the worker sung" sounds somewhat clumsy and the version I learned is "He was our hero, the workers' man" or "workers' son".
I attach my singing version of the last verse, picked up from other singers and consciously replacing the word "labour" due to the Irish political party (and others) by that name and its betrayal of the principles for which Connolly died. I also include now the name by which Clarke's right-hand man signed the Proclamation and a version of which was used at his court martial: Seán Mac Diarmada.
But foremost of all of the seven leaders
I praise the name of James Connolly --
The voice of the workers, the voice of justice
Who gave his life that we might be free.
Since the lyrics were published singers have altered them slightly and a number of such versions exist.
Whether it is an error in transcription I do not know but "He raised the worker and gave him courage/He was the hero the worker sung" sounds somewhat clumsy and the version I learned is "He was our hero, the workers' man" or "workers' son".
I attach my singing version of the last verse, picked up from other singers and consciously replacing the word "labour" due to the Irish political party (and others) by that name and its betrayal of the principles for which Connolly died. I also include now the name by which Clarke's right-hand man signed the Proclamation and a version of which was used at his court martial: Seán Mac Diarmada.
But foremost of all of the seven leaders
I praise the name of James Connolly --
The voice of the workers, the voice of justice
Who gave his life that we might be free.
Diarmuid Breatnach - 6/2/2017 - 21:20
Langue: anglais
Thanks Diarmuid Breatnach!
Ringraziando l'autore del commento che precede, ripropongo il testo come tratto dal sito di Dick Gaughan, dove effettivamente si legge "He was our leader, the workers' son"
La secoda quartina dell'ultima ottava è invece più simile alla chiusura del testo come originariamente contribuito, che non ricordo dove diavolo presi (era il 2009 e non ero molto rigoroso, sorry!)
Ringraziando l'autore del commento che precede, ripropongo il testo come tratto dal sito di Dick Gaughan, dove effettivamente si legge "He was our leader, the workers' son"
La secoda quartina dell'ultima ottava è invece più simile alla chiusura del testo come originariamente contribuito, che non ricordo dove diavolo presi (era il 2009 e non ero molto rigoroso, sorry!)
DUBLIN CITY 1913
In Dublin City in 1913
The boss was boss and the employee the slave
The women worked and the child went hungry
Til Larkin came like a towering wave
The worker cringed when the bossman thundered
And seventy hours was their weekly chore
They asked for little and less was granted
Lest getting little they might ask for more
Then came Larkin in 1913
A mighty man with a powerful tongue
The voice of labour, the voice of justice
And he was gifted as he was young
God gave us Larkin in 1913
A powerful man with a mighty tongue
He raised the workers, he gave us courage
He was our leader, the workers' son
In 1913 the bossman told us
No union man for him might work
We stood by Larkin, we told the bossman
To fight, to starve, we would never shirk
8 months we fought and 8 months we starved
We stood by Larkin through thick and thin
But foodless homes and starving children
They broke our hearts and we could not win
Then Larkin left us, we seemed defeated
The night seemed dark for our workless men
But Connolly came with new hope and courage
And raised the slogan, "We rise again"
In Dublin City in 1916
The British Army they shelled the town
They burned our city, the shot our leaders
The harp was shattered beneath the crown
They shot MacDiarmad and Pearse and Plunkett
They shot MacDonagh and Clarke the brave
From bleak Kilmainham they took Ceannt's body
To Arbour Hill and a quicklime grave
But last of all of these seven heroes
A dying man, they shot Connolly
The voice of labour, the voice of justice
He gave his life that we might be free
In Dublin City in 1913
The boss was boss and the employee the slave
The women worked and the child went hungry
Til Larkin came like a towering wave
The worker cringed when the bossman thundered
And seventy hours was their weekly chore
They asked for little and less was granted
Lest getting little they might ask for more
Then came Larkin in 1913
A mighty man with a powerful tongue
The voice of labour, the voice of justice
And he was gifted as he was young
God gave us Larkin in 1913
A powerful man with a mighty tongue
He raised the workers, he gave us courage
He was our leader, the workers' son
In 1913 the bossman told us
No union man for him might work
We stood by Larkin, we told the bossman
To fight, to starve, we would never shirk
8 months we fought and 8 months we starved
We stood by Larkin through thick and thin
But foodless homes and starving children
They broke our hearts and we could not win
Then Larkin left us, we seemed defeated
The night seemed dark for our workless men
But Connolly came with new hope and courage
And raised the slogan, "We rise again"
In Dublin City in 1916
The British Army they shelled the town
They burned our city, the shot our leaders
The harp was shattered beneath the crown
They shot MacDiarmad and Pearse and Plunkett
They shot MacDonagh and Clarke the brave
From bleak Kilmainham they took Ceannt's body
To Arbour Hill and a quicklime grave
But last of all of these seven heroes
A dying man, they shot Connolly
The voice of labour, the voice of justice
He gave his life that we might be free
envoyé par Bernart Bartleby, già Alessandro - 6/2/2017 - 22:47
Langue: italien
Versione italiana di Kiocciolina
(2007 - originariamente della versione dei Dubliners) integrata nelle due strofe mancanti (la terza e la quarta) da Lorenzo Masetti
(2007 - originariamente della versione dei Dubliners) integrata nelle due strofe mancanti (la terza e la quarta) da Lorenzo Masetti
JAMES LARKIN
Nella Città di Dublino nel 1913
Il capo era ricco e i poveri erano schiavi
Le donne lavoravano e i bambini morivano di fame
Poi giunse Larkin come un'onda potente
Il lavoratore rabbrividì quando il capo tuonò
Di 70 ore era il suo lavoro settimanale
Chiedeva poco, e poco era garantito
Per paura che concesso quel poco, poi gli venisse chiesto di più
Poi Dio ci ha mandato Larkin, scuro e bello
un uomo poderoso con una lingua potente
La voce dei lavoratori la voce della giustizia
era di talento ed era giovane
Poi Dio ci ha mandato Larkin nel 1913
Un uomo potente con una buona lingua
Ha sollevato il lavoratore e gli ha dato coraggio
era l'eroe cantato dai lavoratori.
Nel mese di Agosto il capo ci disse che
Nessun sindacalista poteva lavorare per lui
Siamo stati sostenuti da Larkin e abbiamo detto al capo
Combatteremo o moriremo, me non desisteremo
Otto mesi combattemmo, e otto mesi facemmo la fame
Siamo stati al fianco di Larkin nella buona e nella cattiva sorte
Ma le case senza cibo e i bambini in lacrime
Ci spezzarono il cuore, semplicemente non potevamo vincere
Poi Larkin ci lasciò, sembravamo sconfitti
La notte era scura per i lavoratori
Ma poi giunse Connolly con una nuova speranza ed un nuovo consiglio
Il suo motto era che saremmo insorti di nuovo
Nel 1916 nella Città di Dublino
I soldati inglesi bruciarono la nostra città
Bombardarono i nostri palazzi e spararono ai nostri leader
L'Harp fu seppellitto sotto la corona insanguinata
Spararono a McDermott e a Pearse e a Plunkett
Spararono a McDonagh e a Clarke l'impavido
Dal tetro Kilmainham portarono il corpo di Ceannt
Ad Arbour Hill e una tomba di calce
Ma ultimo di tutti i sette eroi
Canto la lode di James Connolly
La voce della giustizia, la voce della libertà
Diede la sua vita affinché l'umanità possa essere libero!
Nella Città di Dublino nel 1913
Il capo era ricco e i poveri erano schiavi
Le donne lavoravano e i bambini morivano di fame
Poi giunse Larkin come un'onda potente
Il lavoratore rabbrividì quando il capo tuonò
Di 70 ore era il suo lavoro settimanale
Chiedeva poco, e poco era garantito
Per paura che concesso quel poco, poi gli venisse chiesto di più
Poi Dio ci ha mandato Larkin, scuro e bello
un uomo poderoso con una lingua potente
La voce dei lavoratori la voce della giustizia
era di talento ed era giovane
Poi Dio ci ha mandato Larkin nel 1913
Un uomo potente con una buona lingua
Ha sollevato il lavoratore e gli ha dato coraggio
era l'eroe cantato dai lavoratori.
Nel mese di Agosto il capo ci disse che
Nessun sindacalista poteva lavorare per lui
Siamo stati sostenuti da Larkin e abbiamo detto al capo
Combatteremo o moriremo, me non desisteremo
Otto mesi combattemmo, e otto mesi facemmo la fame
Siamo stati al fianco di Larkin nella buona e nella cattiva sorte
Ma le case senza cibo e i bambini in lacrime
Ci spezzarono il cuore, semplicemente non potevamo vincere
Poi Larkin ci lasciò, sembravamo sconfitti
La notte era scura per i lavoratori
Ma poi giunse Connolly con una nuova speranza ed un nuovo consiglio
Il suo motto era che saremmo insorti di nuovo
Nel 1916 nella Città di Dublino
I soldati inglesi bruciarono la nostra città
Bombardarono i nostri palazzi e spararono ai nostri leader
L'Harp fu seppellitto sotto la corona insanguinata
Spararono a McDermott e a Pearse e a Plunkett
Spararono a McDonagh e a Clarke l'impavido
Dal tetro Kilmainham portarono il corpo di Ceannt
Ad Arbour Hill e una tomba di calce
Ma ultimo di tutti i sette eroi
Canto la lode di James Connolly
La voce della giustizia, la voce della libertà
Diede la sua vita affinché l'umanità possa essere libero!
Cercando la ballata da cui Alessio Lega ha ripreso la musica per Santa Croce di Lecce ho trovato che nel sito abbiamo un doppione. Infatti questa canzone c'è anche nella versione dei Dubliners sotto il titolo James Larkin. Inoltre la musica non è originale neanche in questo caso perché è ripresa dalla tradizionale Preab San Ól, pure interpretata dai Dubliners.
Che fare?
Che fare?
Lorenzo - 21/6/2017 - 23:06
Ciao Lorenzo,
non credo debba essere attribuita ai Dubliners, perchè mi pare che compaia solo in certe loro raccolte degli anni 90.
Piuttosto riscontro che Christy Moore la interpretò nel suo disco "Paddy On The Road" del 1969.
Forse si potrebbe aggregare le due pagine, per quanto possibile e utile, e attribuire il brano agli autori Donagh e Niall MacDonagh.
Saluti
non credo debba essere attribuita ai Dubliners, perchè mi pare che compaia solo in certe loro raccolte degli anni 90.
Piuttosto riscontro che Christy Moore la interpretò nel suo disco "Paddy On The Road" del 1969.
Forse si potrebbe aggregare le due pagine, per quanto possibile e utile, e attribuire il brano agli autori Donagh e Niall MacDonagh.
Saluti
B.B. - 21/6/2017 - 23:24
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Lyrics by Donagh and Niall MacDonagh
Sulla melodia della canzone tradizionale "Preab 'san Ol"
Proposta spesso dal vivo da Dick Gaughan.
Interpretata anche da Christy Moore e dai Dubliners
Le prime strofe del brano si riferiscono invece al grande sciopero operaio avvenuto a Dublino nel 1913, noto come The Dublin Lockout. Il popolo irlandese, infatti, non era soltanto soggetto alla brutale dominazione britannica ma anche sfruttato bestialmente da padroni ed industriali conterranei, complici degli occupanti, che avevano a disposizione un mucchio di manodopera a bassissimo costo. Basti pensare che nel 1913 un terzo della popolazione di Dublino viveva in baraccopoli e che la mortalità per tubercolosi era in Irlanda il 50% più alta che in Inghilterra e Scozia... Stanchi di subire il "doppio giogo", i lavoratori irlandesi si organizzarono, soprattutto a Dublino, nell'"Irish Transport and General Workers' Union" (ITGWU). Il leader di quella prima organizzazione sindacale fu James "Big Jim" Larkin (1876-1947), che guidò anche i grandi scioperi del 1913 per poi trasferirsi temporaneamente negli USA dove maturò l'adesione al comunismo...