The Land we from our fathers had in trust, And
to our children will transmit, or die: This
is our maxim, this our piety; And
God and Nature say that it is just. That
which we 'would' perform in arms--we must! We
read the dictate in the infant's eye; In
the wife's smile; and in the placid sky; And,
at our feet, amid the silent dust Of
them that were before us.--Sing aloud Old
songs, the precious music of the heart! Give,
herds and flocks, your voices to the wind! While
we go forth, a self-devoted crowd, With
weapons grasped in fearless hands, to assert Our
virtue, and to vindicate mankind.
蒂罗尔人的心情
祖先托付给我们的土地,只能 传给我们的子孙,否则,宁勿死! 这就是我们的信条,我们的天职; 上帝和造化都说:这样才公正。 要干,就得要拿起刀枪,——一定! 孩子的眼神仿佛在殷殷嘱示, 妻子的笑容,地下的先人骨殖, 沉静的天宇,都激励我们抗争。 把世代相传的歌曲放声高唱! 这曲调出自深心,亲切而珍贵; 迎着天风鸣叫吧,牧野的牛羊! 看我们踊跃前趋,虽死不悔; 刚强无畏的手里紧握着刀枪, 要永保高风亮节,要卫护人类。 |
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