Foggy Dew (ballade irlandaise)

Oh, a wan cloud was drawn o'er the dim weeping dawn
As to Shannon's side I return'd at last,
And the heart in my breast for the girl I lov'd best
Was beating, ah, beating, how loud and fast!
While the doubts and the fears of the long aching years
Seem'd mingling their voices with the moaning flood:
Till full in my path, like a wild water wraith,
My true love's shadow lamenting stood.

But the sudden sun kiss'd the cold, cruel mist
Into dancing show'rs of diamond dew,
And the dark flowing stream laugh'd back to his beam,
And the lark soared aloft in the blue;
While no phantom of night but a form of delight
Ran with arms outspread to her darling boy,
And the girl I love best on my wild throbbing breast
Hid her thousand treasures with cry of joy.

As down the glen one Easter morn to a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by
No pipe did hum nor battle drum did sound its loud tattoo
But the Angelus Bell o'er the Liffey's swell rang out through the foggy dew

Right proudly high over Dublin Town they hung out the flag of war
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Suvla (en) or Sud-El-Bar (en)
And from the plains of Royal Meath strong men came hurrying through
While Britannia's Huns [or "hounds"], with their long range guns sailed in through the foggy dew

'Twas England bade our wild geese go, that "small nations might be free";
Their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves or the fringe of the great North Sea.
Oh, had they died by Pearse's side or fought with Cathal Brugha[3]^,[4]
Their graves we'd keep where the Fenians sleep, 'neath the shroud of the foggy dew.

Oh the night fell black, and the rifles' crack made perfidious Albion reel
In the leaden rain, seven tongues of flame did shine o'er the lines of steel
By each shining blade a prayer was said, that to Ireland her sons be true
But when morning broke, still the war flag shook out its folds in the foggy dew

Oh the bravest fell, and the Requiem bell rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide in the spring time of the year
And the world did gaze, in deep amaze, at those fearless men, but few,
Who bore the fight that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew

As back through the glen I rode again and my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valiant men whom I never shall see more
But to and fro in my dreams I go and I kneel and pray for you,
For slavery fled, O glorious dead, when you fell in the foggy dew.

Un matin de Pâques au pied de la vallée encaissée, Tandis que je me rendais vers Dublin,
Là, des lignes armées d'hommes qui marchaient en escadron me dépassèrent.
Aucune voix ne fredonnait, aucun tambour de guerre ne résonnait
Mais la cloche de l'Angelus carillonnait crescendo au-dessus de la Liffey jusque dans la rosée brumeuse.

Avançant fièrement dans la ville de Dublin, ils arborèrent le drapeau de guerre avec dignité.
C'était mieux de mourir sous le ciel irlandais qu'à Sulva ou Sud el Bar.
Et depuis les plaines de Royal Meath des hommes forts arrivèrent désordonnés ;
Tandis que les Huns britanniques tiraient avec leurs armes longues portée à travers la rosée brumeuse.

Les plus courageux tombèrent, et la cloche du requiem sonna lugubre et cristalline
Pour ceux qui sont morts en cette journée de Pâques dans le renouveau de l'année.
Pendant que le monde contemplaient avec stupéfaction cette poignée d'hommes si braves
Qui percèrent le combat afin que la lumière de la liberté puisse à nouveau briller à travers la rosée brumeuse.

Et je voyageai à nouveau dans la vallée encaissée et mon cœur se remplit de chagrin
Pour ensuite se fendre avec la pensée que jamais je ne reverrai ces vaillants hommes.
Mais je vais et je viens dans mes rêves Et je m'agenouille et prie pour vous
pour la disparition de l'esclavage Oh morts glorieux quand vous êtes tombés au champ d'honneur dans la rosée brumeuse.