«Έχω πει μερικές φορές στον εαυτό μου ότι αν υπήρχε μία μόνο πινακίδα στην είσοδο κάθε εκκλησίας που να απαγόρευε την είσοδο σε οποιονδήποτε με εισόδημα πάνω από ένα συγκεκριμένο ποσό , θα γινόμουν αμέσως χριστιανή» . Σιμόν Βέιλ, Γαλλίδα φιλόσοφος και πολιτική ακτιβίστρια (1909-1943)
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling From glen to glen, and down the mountain side The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying 'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide. But come ye back when summer's in the meadow Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow 'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
And if you come, when all the flowers are dying And I am dead, as dead I well may be You'll come and find the place where I am lying And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
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Na Casaidigh with the popular Irish song about the 1798 Rebellion in
Ireland. Na Casaidigh or The Cassidys are a traditional Irish family
band from the Gaoth Dobhair (Gweedore) Gaeltacht in County Donegal.
The Rising of the Moon
Lyrics:
Oh then, tell me Seán O'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so? "Hush a bhuachaill, hush and listen", and his cheeks were all aglow, "I bear orders from the captain:- get you ready quick and soon For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon" By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon,
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon
"And come tell me Seán O'Farrell where the gath'rin is to be?" "In the old spot by the river, right well known to you and me. One more word for signal token:- whistle out the marchin' tune, With your pike upon your shoulder, by the rising of the moon." By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon With your pike upon your shoulder, by the rising of the moon.
Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night, Many a manly chest was throbbing, for the blessed morning light. Murmurs ran along the valleys like the banshee's lonely croon And a thousand pikes were flashing at the rising of the moon. At the rising of the moon, at the rising of the moon. And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon.
There beside the singing river that black mass of men was seen, High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green. "Death to every foe and traitor! Forward strike the marching tune." And hurrah my boys for freedom; 'tis the rising of the moon". Tis the rising of the moon, tis the rising of the moon And hurrah my boys for freedom; 'Tis the rising of the moon".
Well they fought for poor old Ireland, and full bitter was their fate, Oh what glorious pride and sorrow, fills the name of ninety-eight! Yet, thank God, e'en still are beating hearts in manhood burning noon, Who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin' of the moon At the rising of the moon, At the rising of the moon Who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin' of the moon.
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