Foggy dew (īru balāde)

"Foggy Dew" ir vairāku īru balāžu un sēru dziesmu nosaukums. Dziesma vēsta par 1916. gada Lieldienu sacelšanos un mudina īrus cīnīties par neatkarīgu Īriju, nevis par Britu impēriju, kā to darīja daudzi jaunieši Pirmajā pasaules karā.

 Pirmā parādīšanās 
"The Foggy Dew" kā īru tradicionālās dziesmas nosaukums pirmo reizi parādijās Edvarda Bantinga The Ancient Music of Ireland (1840),Bunting, Edward: The Ancient Music of Ireland (Dublin: Hodges & Smith, 1840), tune no. 150, p. 109; facsimile reprint, Dublin: Waltons, 1969. kur melodija atšķirās no mūsdienās pārsvarā dziedātās (atšķirās arī no sēru un dumpinieku dziesmas). Bantinga melodijas avots bija "J. Mc Knight, Belfast, 1839", taču šī pati melodija jau ir atrodama O'Farrell's Collection of National Irish Music for the Union Pipes (Londona, 1804), kur to sauc par "Corraga Bawn".Fleischmann, Aloys (ed.): Sources of Irish Traditional Music c.1600—1855, 2 volumes (New York: Garland Publishing, 1998), , vol. 2, p. 717 and 1106, tunes no. 3913 and 6068.

 Īru sēru dziesma 
Sēru dziesmas vārdi tika publicēti 1931. gadā izdotajā The Home and Community Songbook otrajā izdevumā.

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.

Šīs balādes versiju ar L. F. Milligana izmaiņām vārdos tenors J. Makormaks, pianista Sensera Kleja pavadījumā, ierakstīja ierakstu priekš kompānijas "RCA Victor Records" 1913. gada 3. janvārī savā studijā Kamdenā, Ņūdžersijā.

 Lieldienu sacelšanās 
Citu dziesmu ar nosaukumu "Foggy Dew" uzrakstīja Fr (vēlāk kanons) Čārlzs O'Nīls no Portglenones, Antrimas grāfistes (1887—1963), Daunas un Konora diecēzes priesteris, kurš toreiz bija Svētā Pētera katedrāles kurators. Belfāstā un vēlākā dzīvē bija draudzes priesteris Kilcoo un vēlāk Ņūkāslas Daunas grāfistē.Down & Connor Diocesan Archives in Belfast, record for Father Charles O'Neill O'Nīls tika ordinēts Svētā Patrika koledžā Meinūtā 1912. gadā.

Šī dziesma apraksta 1916. gada Lieldienu sacelšanos un aicina īrus Pirmā pasaules kara kaujas laukos cīnīties par Īrijas brīvību, nevis par Lielbritānijas interesēm (pēc Olsteras Universitātes profesora K. Džeferija, kara laikā par Britu impēriju kopumā cīnījās 210 000 īru).Ireland and the Great War by Keith Jeffery (Cambridge University Press, 2000)

 Dziesmas teksts 
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, no battle drum did sound its dread 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 or Sud-El-Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath strong men came hurrying through
While Britannia’s Huns, with their long range guns sailed in through 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

'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*
Their graves we’d keep where the Fenians sleep, 'neath the shroud of 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 no 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.

 Atsauces 

Kategorija:Īrijas mūzika