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Le Rouge et le Blanc, ou le Fil d'Ariane d'un voyageur naturaliste

The Foggy Dew

23 Août 2020 , Rédigé par Peter Oliver Campbell

Aux fiers Irlandais et à tous ceux qui combattent pour la la dignité de l'homme, pour la justice, pour la liberté et pour leur patrie !

To the proud Irishmen and to all those who fight for the dignity of man, for justice, for freedom and for their country !


Pierre-Olivier Combelles

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 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


'Twas England bade our wild geese go, that "small nations might be free";

But 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 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.

’Sé do bheatha, a bhean ba léanmhar

do bé ár gcreach tú bheith i ngéibhinn

do dhúiche bhreá i seilbh meirleach

's tú díolta leis na Gallaibh.


Óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

óró, sé do bheatha bhaile

anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh.

Tá Gráinne Mhaol ag teacht thar sáile

óglaigh armtha léi mar gharda,

Gaeil iad féin is ní Francaigh ná Spáinnigh

's cuirfidh siad ruaig ar Ghallaibh.


A bhuí le Rí na bhFeart go bhfeiceam

muna mbeam beo ina dhiaidh ach seachtain

Gráinne Mhaol agus míle gaiscíoch

ag fógairt fáin ar Ghallaibh.

Hail, oh woman, who was so afflicted,

It was our ruin that you were in chains,

Your fine land in the possession of thieves...

While you were sold to the foreigners!


Oh-ro, welcome home

Oh-ro, welcome home

Oh-ro, welcome home

Now that summer's coming!

Grace O'Malley is coming over the sea,

Armed warriors as her guard,

Only Gaels are they, not French nor Spanish...

and they will rout the foreigners!


May it please the King of Prodigy that we might see,

Although we may live but one week after,

Grace O'Malley and a thousand warriors...

Dispersing the foreigners!

David Marshall
I just want to correct this daft notion that the chorus means "Oro you're welcome home." It means nothing of the sort. In spite of what Google translate may tell youThis version of the song is a call to action. A call to arms, to insurrection and to take back the land stolen by foreigners. Let me explain why. The full line of the chorus is: Óró. Is sé do bheatha abhaile (If you are speaking English you could say it as: "o ro iss shay do va-ha awal-ya" but a little bit quickly. Irish is a very contextual language. It depends what you say and when you say it. If you read "aimsire lahreach" in a grammar book, it's probably saying "present tense". If you see exactly the same thing on TV is probably means "weather report". See how different they are. It's the same with this song. "Óró" is grabbing your attention. My granny would often call "Oro a Dáithí". It means everything from  "come here" "pay attention" "heads-up" "mind what you are doing" "look here" and so on. So she was saying: "Pay attention David".... So pay attention you... or just "heads-up"... Óró a thú ... The next word in the written version is the verb/copula: "Is" and it's missing from the song. That's common enough in Irish, because "everyone" knows it should be there.  So the phrase should be "Is sé do".... It is your... beatha,  (do bheatha). There is no English word for this. The nearest would be "livelihood" or "sustenance", even "heritage" - and all of them together. In this case I think it's OK to say it means "birth right".  Now: bhaile is really: abhaile... Meaning "back home".So the whole phrase gets pronounced: o ro iss shay do va-ha awal-ya. But it's too long to fit the metre of the song so we get.: o ro shay do va awal-ya. And all that is quite ok in Irish.  SO THE LINE REALLY MEANS:  Pay attention It's your birth-right back home. The last line of the chorus is especially important: To read it as "now that summer is coming" would be to misunderstand it. In agricultural Ireland, the summer is useless - unless you've already prepared "in the coming of the summer" in March and April. Which is exactly what the line says: Anois (now)...  ar theacht (in the coming of)... an tsamhraidh (the summer). The song goes on to say something like "I was in a bar in some foreign lad when this woman began bemoaning me... Don't you know what's going on back home.... Your birth right is being stolen and sold to foreigners. Because although this is an old song, a little over 100years ago Patrick Pearse re-wrote it to support the planned rising (April 1916). There's nothing about "welcome home" in these lyrics (except for a bit about being more welcome than a hundred cows who were milking (and so especially valuable at a time when a man was considered rich if he had two cows). So to repeat myself, this version of the song is a call to action. A call to arms, insurrection and to take back the land stolen by foreigners. I know lots of versions of this song... and lots of people who still sing it (especially after last year).  And although it's taken me a while to embrace this version, it's one of my favourites now. Great job Sinead.

I was born on a Dublin street where the Royal drums do beat

And the loving English feet they tramped all over us,

And each and every night when me father'd come home tight

He'd invite the neighbors outside with this chorus:



So come out you black and tans,

Come out and fight me like a man

Show your wife how you won medals fown in Flanders

Tell them how the IRA

Made you run like hell away,

From the green and lovely lanes in Killashandra.


Come let me hear you tell

How you slandered brave Pernell,

How you fought him well and truly persecuted,

Where are the snears and jeers

That that give out a little cheer

When our leaders of sixteen were executed.


Come tell us how you slew

Them old Arabs two by two

Like the Zulus they had spears and bows and arrows,

How you bravely faced each one

With your sixteen pound of gun

And you frightened them poor natives to the marrow. CHORUS


Allen, Larkin, and O'Brien--

How you bravely called them swine!

Robert Emmett who you hung and drew and quartered!

High upon that scaffold high,

How you murdered Henry Joy!

And our Croppy Boys from Wexford you did slaughter! CHORUS


The day is coming fast

And the time is here at last,

When each yeoman will be cast aside before us,

And if there be a need

Sure my kids wil sing, "Godspeed!"

To a verse or two of Steven Beehan's chorus. CHORUS

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