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The pulse of an Irishman

Language: English

The pulse of an Irishman ever beats quicker,
whan war is the story, or love is the theme;
and place him where bullets fly thicker and thicker,
you'll find him all cowardice scorning.
And tho' a ball should maim poor Darby,
light at the heart he rallies on:
"Fortune is cruel, but Norah, my jewel,
is kind, and with smiling, all sorrow beguiling,
shall bid from our cabin all care to be gone,
and how they will jig it, and tug at the spigot,
an Patrick's day in the mornin'."

O blest by the land in the wide western waters,
sweet Erin, lov'd Erin, the pride of my song;
still brave be the sons, and still fair be the daughters
thy meads and thy mountains adorning!
And tho'  the eastern sun seems tardy,
tho' the pure light of knowledge slow,
night and delusion, and darkling confusion
like mists from the river shall vanish for ever,
and true Irish hearts with warm loyalty glow;
and proud exaltation burst forth from the nation
on Patrick's day in the mornin'.


Translation(s): FRE GER

List of language codes

Submitted by Caroline Diehl

Authorship


Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

Available translations, adaptations, and transliterations (if applicable):

  • FRE French (Fran├žais) (Isabelle Cecchini) , title 1: "Le sang d'un Irlandais", copyright © 2003, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
  • GER German (Deutsch) [singable] (G. Pertz) , title 1: "Das Blut eines Iren"


Text added to the website: 2005-01-16.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:12
Line count: 22
Word count: 177

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Das Blut eines Iren

Language: German (Deutsch) after the English

 Das Blut eines Iren wird Feuriger wallen,
 So oft es um Krieg oder Liebe sich dreht;
 Und just wo die Kugeln am Dichtesten fallen,
 habt ach, wie am kühnsten er Glühe.
 Macht auch die Kugel ihn zum Stelzfuß,
 Er trällert leichten herzens fort:
 "Schicksal hat Mängel, doch Nora, mein Engel,
 Die sanft aus dem Herzen mir lächelt die Schmerzen,
 Scheucht jegliches Leid durch ein trauliches Wort;
 Und hei, wie sie springen und trinken und singen
 An Patricks Tag in der Frühe!"

 O Heil dir, du Perle der westlichen Meere,
 Mein liebliches Eiland, du Stolz meines Sangs;
 Daß ewig der Mut deiner Söhne dich mehre,
 Der Reiz deiner Töchter durchglühe!
 Säumt scheinbar auch des Ostens Sonne,
 Wird Weisheitslicht auch spät gesehn,
 Nacht und Beirrung und dunkle Verwirrung
 Wird spurlos entweichen wie Nebel von Teichen,
 Und Irland, die Ketten zerbrechend, erstehn;
 Und hell wird, wie Glocken, die Heimat frohlocken
 An Patricks Tag in der Frühe!


Submitted by Ferdinando Albeggiani

Authorship


Based on

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

    [ None yet in the database ]


Text added to the website: 2005-01-20.
Last modified: 2014-06-16 10:02:12
Line count: 22
Word count: 154