Harbours open their arms to the young searching foreigner
Come to live in the light of the beacon of liberty
Plains and open skies billboards would advertise
Was it anything like that when you arrived
Dream boats carried the future to the heart of America
People were waiting in line for a place by the river
It was a time when strangers were welcome here
Music would play they tell me the days were sweet and clear
It was a sweeter tune and there was so much room
That people could come from everywhere
Now he arrives with his hopes and his heart set on miracles
Come to marry his fortune with a hand full of promises
To find they've closed the door they don't want him anymore
There isn't any more to go around
Turning away he remembers he once heard a legend
That spoke of a mystical magical land called America
There was a time when strangers were welcome here
Music would play they tell me the days were sweet and clear
It was a sweeter tune and there was so much room
That people could come from everywhere
There was a time when strangers were welcome here
Music would play they tell me the days were sweet and clear
It was a sweeter tune and there was so much room
That people could come from everywhere
Come to live in the light of the beacon of liberty
Plains and open skies billboards would advertise
Was it anything like that when you arrived
Dream boats carried the future to the heart of America
People were waiting in line for a place by the river
It was a time when strangers were welcome here
Music would play they tell me the days were sweet and clear
It was a sweeter tune and there was so much room
That people could come from everywhere
Now he arrives with his hopes and his heart set on miracles
Come to marry his fortune with a hand full of promises
To find they've closed the door they don't want him anymore
There isn't any more to go around
Turning away he remembers he once heard a legend
That spoke of a mystical magical land called America
There was a time when strangers were welcome here
Music would play they tell me the days were sweet and clear
It was a sweeter tune and there was so much room
That people could come from everywhere
There was a time when strangers were welcome here
Music would play they tell me the days were sweet and clear
It was a sweeter tune and there was so much room
That people could come from everywhere
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2015/4/21 - 15:37
Language: French
La versione francese di Claude Righi, interpretata dalla cantautrice Nicole Rieu (1949-) nel suo album intitolato “Le ciel c'est ici”, pubblicato nel 1976
L'IMMIGRANT
Il n'a rien fait de bien grave
Quand la police l'a emmené
Et c'était bien de son âge
On ne pouvait pas l'en blâmer
Bien sûr, c'était interdit
Il en a eu envie
Et depuis, il s'est enfui
De son pays
Il n'a jamais pris d'otages
N'a pas volé, n'a pas tué
Et c'était un enfant sage
Qui avait le goût de rêver
Où s'en va-t-il ?
Où va-t-il encore se cacher ?
Que peut-il faire ?
Que peut-il encore espérer ?
Mais moi, j'irai vers lui
Qu'il se cache ou qu'il fuie
Qu'il soit l'homme errant
Ou l'immigrant
Il veut trouver un refuge
Un abri, une âme bien née
Là où personne ne juge
Là où les hommes pourraient s'aimer
Bien sûr, c'est un long chemin
Il ne sait plus très bien
Et depuis, il va plus loin
Toujours plus loin
Il faudra bien qu'il s'arrête
Quelque part pour se reposer
Sans avoir peur qu'on le guette
C'est son droit, c'est sa liberté
Où s'en va-t-il ?
Où va-t-il encore se cacher ?
Que peut-il faire ?
Que peut-il encore espérer ?
Mais moi, j'irai vers lui
Qu'il se cache ou qu'il fuie
Qu'il soit l'homme errant
Ou l'immigrant...
Il n'a rien fait de bien grave
Quand la police l'a emmené
Et c'était bien de son âge
On ne pouvait pas l'en blâmer
Bien sûr, c'était interdit
Il en a eu envie
Et depuis, il s'est enfui
De son pays
Il n'a jamais pris d'otages
N'a pas volé, n'a pas tué
Et c'était un enfant sage
Qui avait le goût de rêver
Où s'en va-t-il ?
Où va-t-il encore se cacher ?
Que peut-il faire ?
Que peut-il encore espérer ?
Mais moi, j'irai vers lui
Qu'il se cache ou qu'il fuie
Qu'il soit l'homme errant
Ou l'immigrant
Il veut trouver un refuge
Un abri, une âme bien née
Là où personne ne juge
Là où les hommes pourraient s'aimer
Bien sûr, c'est un long chemin
Il ne sait plus très bien
Et depuis, il va plus loin
Toujours plus loin
Il faudra bien qu'il s'arrête
Quelque part pour se reposer
Sans avoir peur qu'on le guette
C'est son droit, c'est sa liberté
Où s'en va-t-il ?
Où va-t-il encore se cacher ?
Que peut-il faire ?
Que peut-il encore espérer ?
Mais moi, j'irai vers lui
Qu'il se cache ou qu'il fuie
Qu'il soit l'homme errant
Ou l'immigrant...
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2017/5/21 - 22:21
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Scritta da Neil Sedaka e Phil Cody
Nell’album “Sedaka's Back”
“At that time we were starting to see immigration problems. I think I was watching a news report, and I remember thinking, That's not the way Americans treat people who come to our country. And I wanted to write about that. I was put off by the Vietnam War and how our stance in the world just didn't seem friendly and welcoming. And I wanted to write nostalgically about my father's period when he came, feeling such promise and hope.” (da un’intervista a Phil Cody riportata da Songfacts)
L’idea dell’altro autore del brano, Neil Sedaka, era invece quello di esprimere la propria solidarietà a John Lennon, che proprio in quel periodo se la stava passando brutta con il governo USA, intenzionato a deportarlo per via della sua attività politica. Lennon rimase soggetto a decreto di espulsione dalla primavera del 1973 fino al 1975.