事業／計画（する） Gutenberg Australia a treasure-trove of literature treasure 設立する hidden with no 証拠 of 所有権

BROWSE the 場所／位置 for other 作品 by this author (and our other authors) or get HELP Reading, Downloading and 変えるing とじ込み／提出するs) or SEARCH the entire 場所／位置 with Google 場所／位置 Search

肩書を与える:  Four Censored Poems
Author: Henry Lawson
* A 事業／計画（する） Gutenberg of Australia eBook *
eBook No.: 2001131h.html
Language: English
Date first 地位，任命するd:  October 2020
Most 最近の update: October 2020

This eBook was produced by: Walter Moore

事業／計画（する） Gutenberg of Australia eBooks are created from printed 版s
which are in the public domain in Australia, unless a copyright notice
is 含むd. We do NOT keep any eBooks in 同意／服従 with a particular
paper 版.

Copyright 法律s are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the
copyright 法律s for your country before downloading or redistributing this
とじ込み／提出する.

This eBook is made 利用できる at no cost and with almost no 制限s
どれでも. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the 条件
of the 事業／計画（する） Gutenberg Australia Licence which may be 見解（をとる）d online.

GO TO 事業／計画（する） Gutenberg Australia HOME PAGE

Four Censored Poems

by
Henry Lawson

Published 1952

CONTENTS

Foreword
Sons of the South
The Men Who Made Australia
Freedom on the Wallaby
I'm Too Old to ネズミ

FOREWORD

Henry Lawson was born at Grenfell, N.S.W.
June, 17, 1867. Died, Sydney, Sept,’ 2 nd. 1922.

LAWSON WAS AND IS AUSTRALIA’S
GREATEST WRITER AND POET.

His poems and stories will be forever treasured の中で the finest traditions of the working people. He wrote of the lives of the city and bush 労働者s and small 農業者s in the days when AUSTRALIA was still young, but he also told the 労働者s how to 訂正する the 不正s of Capitalism in such a way, as to make much of his work as true to-day as when he wrote it.

The four poems 現在のd have been censored from all published 見解／翻訳／版s of LAWSON’S 作品 by those that “own” them. WE consider that these poems belong to the people so we 現在の them here.

The dreams of HENRY LAWSON of an AUSTRALIA owned by the AUSTRALIAN PEOPLE, are carried 今後 in the program of the

COMMUNIST PARTY of AUSTRALIA,
“Australia’s Path to 社会主義.”

Like LAWSON the program calls on the 労働者s to lead the way in ending forever wars 悲惨 and 失業, in “THIS LAND THAT BELONGS TO YOU.”

We remember LAWSON by 誓約（する）ing ourselves to fight for his ideals.

This year is the 85th. 周年記念日 of his birth and the 30th. of his death.

共産主義者s of Bunnerong 力／強力にする House.

Sons of the South

Sons of the South! Awake! Arise!
Sons of the South, and do!
Banish from under your sunny skies
Those old world errors and wrongs and lies
Making a hell in a 楽園,
That belongs to your sons and you.

Sons of the South, make choice between,
Sons of the South, choose true
The Land of Morn and the Land of Even!
The old dead tree and the young tree green,
The land that belongs to the lords and the Queen,
And the land that belongs to you.

Sons of the South! Your time will come,
Sons of the South! 'Tis 近づく!
The 調印するs of the times, in their language dumb,
Foretell it, and ominous whispers hum
Like the sullen sound of a distant 派手に宣伝する,
In the 妊娠している atmosphere.

Sons of the South! 誘発するd at last,
Sons of the South are few,
But your 階級s grow longer and deeper 急速な／放蕩な,
And ye shall swell to an army 広大な,
And 解放する／自由な from the wrongs of the north and past
The land, that belongs to you.

The Men Who Made Australia

(Written on the Occasion of the 王室の Visit to Australia, 1901)

There’ll be 王室の times in Sydney for the Cuff and Collar 押し進める,
       There’ll be lots of dreary drivel and clap-罠（にかける）
From the men who own Australia, but who never knew the Bush,
       And who could not point their runs out on the 地図／計画する.
Oh, the daily 圧力（をかける） will grovel as it never did before,
       There’ll be many 旗s of welcome in the 空気／公表する,
And the Civil Service poet, he shall 令状 odes by the 得点する／非難する／２０ —
       But the men who made the land will not be there.

You shall 会合，会う the awful Lady of the 最新の Birthday Knight —
       (She is trying to be English, don’t-cher-know?)
You shall hear the empty mouthing of the 支持する／優勝者 blatherskite,
       You shall hear the boss of 地元の drapers blow.
There’ll be “majahs” from the 反対する, tailors’ 模造のs from the (n)艦隊／(a)素早い,
       And to 代表する Australia here to-day,
There’s the toady with his card-事例／患者 and his cab in 負かす／撃墜するing-street;
       But the men who made Australia — where are they?

Call across the 炎ing sand wastes of the Never-Never Land!
       There are some who will not answer yet awhile,
Some whose bones rot in the mulga or 嘘（をつく） bleaching on the sand,
       Died of かわき to 勝利，勝つ the land another mile.
Thrown from horses, ripped by cattle, lost on 砂漠s; and the weak,
       Mad through loneliness or drink (no 事柄 which),
溺死するd in floods or dead of fever by the 不振の slimy creek—
       These are men who died to make the Wool-Kings rich.

Call across the scrubby 山の尾根s where they （疑いを）晴らす the barren 国／地域,
       And the gaunt Bush-women 株 the work of men—
Toil and loneliness for ever — hardship, loneliness and toil—
       Where the 勇敢に立ち向かう 干ばつ-廃虚d 農業者 starts again!
Call across the boundless sheep-runs of a country 悪口を言う／悪態d for sheep—
       Call across the awful scrublands west of Bourke!
But they have no time to listen — they have scarcely time to sleep—
       For the men who 征服する／打ち勝つ 砂漠s have to work.

Dragged behind the はうing sheep-flock on the hot and dusty plain,
       They must make a cheque to 料金d the wife and kids —
Riding night-watch 一連の会議、交渉／完成する the cattle in the pelting, 氷点の rain,
       While world-weariness is 圧力（をかける）ing 負かす／撃墜する the lids.
And away on far out-駅／配置するs, seldom touched by Heaven’s breath,
       In a loneliness that smothers love and hate —
Where they never take white women — there they live the living death
       With a half-caste or a 黒人／ボイコット-gin for a mate.

They must toil to save the gaunt 在庫／株 in the 炎ing months of 干ばつ,
       When the stinging, blinding blight is in men’s 注目する，もくろむs —
On the wretched, burnt 選択s, on the big runs その上の out
       Where the sand-嵐／襲撃する rises lurid to the skies.
Not to 利益（をあげる） when the grass is waving waist high after rain,
       And the mighty clip of wool comes rolling in —
For the Wool-King goes to Paris with his family again
       And the gold that souls are sacrificed to 勝利，勝つ.

There are carriages in waiting for the swells from over-sea,
       There are 祝宴s in the 最新の London style,
While the men who made Australia live on damper, junk and tea —
       But the 静かな 発言する／表明するs whisper, “Wait a while!”
For the sons of all Australia, they were born to 征服する／打ち勝つ 運命／宿命 —
       And, where charity and friendship are sincere,
Where a sinner is a brother and a stranger is a mate,
       There the 未来 of a nation’s written （疑いを）晴らす.

Aye, the cities （人命などを）奪う，主張する the 勝利s of a land they do not know,
       But all empty is the day they celebrate!
For the men who made Australia federated long ago,
       And the men to 支配する Australia — they can wait.
Though the bed may be the rough bunk or the gum leaves or the sand,
       And the roof for half the year may be the sky —
There are men amongst the Bushmen who were born to save the land!
       And they’ll take their places 厳しく by-and-by.

There’s a whisper on the 砂漠 though the sunset 微風 hath died
       In the scrubs, though not a breath to 動かす a bough,
There’s a murmur, not of waters, 負かす／撃墜する the Lachlan River 味方する,
       ’Tis the spirit of Australia waking now!
There’s the weird hymn of the 干ばつ-night on the western water-shed,
       Where the beds of 打ち明けるd rivers 割れ目 and parch;
’Tis the dead that we have buried, and our 広大な／多数の／重要な unburied dead,
       Who are calling now on living men to march!

一連の会議、交渉／完成する the （軍の）野営地，陣営 解雇する／砲火／射撃 of the fencers by the furthest パネル盤 west,
       In the men’s hut by the muddy billabong,
On the 広大な／多数の／重要な North-Western 在庫／株-大勝するs where the drovers never 残り／休憩（する）,
       They are sorting out the 権利 things from the wrong.
In the shearers’ hut the slush lamp shows a haggard, 厳しい-直面するd man
       Preaching war against the Wool-King to his mates;
And wherever go the billy, water-捕らえる、獲得する and frying-pan,
       They are 草案ing 未来 histories of 明言する／公表するs!

Freedom on the Wallaby

Australia’s a big country
    An’ Freedom’s humpin’ bluey—
An’ Freedom’s on the wallaby—
    Oh, don’t you hear ’er cooey?
She’s just begun to boomerang,
    She’ll knock the tyrants silly—
She’s going to light another 解雇する／砲火／射撃
    And boil another billy.

Our fathers toiled for bitter bread
    While loafers 栄えるd beside ’em—
But food to eat and 着せる／賦与するs to wear,
    Their native land 否定するd ’em.
An’ so they left their native land
    In spite of their devotion—
And so they （機の）カム, (or if they stole,
    Were sent) across the ocean.

Then Freedom couldn’t stand the glare
    Of 王族’s regalia—
She left the loafers where they were,
    An’ （機の）カム out to Australia.
But now across the mighty main
    The chains have come to 貯蔵所d her –
She little thought to see again
    The wrongs she left behind her.

Our parents toiled to make a home –
    Hard grubbin’ ’twas and clearin’,
They wasn’t troubled much with lords
    When they was pioneerin’.
But now that we have made the land
    A garden 十分な of 約束—
Old greed must crook his dirty 手渡す
    And come and take it from us.

So we must 飛行機で行く a 反逆者／反逆する 旗,
    As others did before us—
And we must sing a 反逆者／反逆する song
    And join in 反逆者／反逆する chorus.
We’ll make the tyrants feel the sting
    Of those that they would throttle—
They needn’t say the fault is ours
    If 血 should stain the wattle!

I’m Too Old to ネズミ

I don’t care if the 原因（となる） be wrong,
    Or if the 原因（となる） be 権利;
I’ve had my day and sung my song
    And fought the bitter fight.
In truth, at times I can’t even tell
    What men are 運動ing at,
But I’ve been Union 30 years,
    And I’m too old to ネズミ.

Maybe, at times in bygone days
    Remembered now by few,
We did bite off in さまざまな ways
    Much more than we could chew.
We paid—in bitter strikers’ （軍の）野営地，陣営s
    Across the Blacksoil flat,
We paid—in long and hungry tramps
    And I’m too old to ネズミ.

The Queensland strike in ’89
    And 90’s 暗い／優うつな days,
The day the オペラ Company sang
    For us—“the Marseillaise”,
The sea of 直面するs 厳しい and 始める，決める,
    The waiting bitter cup,
The hopeless hearts, unbeaten yet
    The 嵐／襲撃する clouds 急ぐing up.

The fighting, dying “Boomerang”
    Against the “Daily 圧力（をかける）.”
The 幼児 “労働者” 持つ／拘留するing out
    The families in 苦しめる.
The sudden 涙／ほころびs of beaten men
    Oh, you remember that.
And memories that make my pen
    Not 価値（がある） its while to ネズミ.

I’ve wept with them in Strikers’ （軍の）野営地，陣営s
    Where shivered man and beast;
I’ve worn since then the badge
    Of men of Hell—and London East.
White 直面するs in the ゆらめくing たいまつ!
    Wraith wives—the slaves of fat!
And ragged children in the rain,
    Yes—I’m too old to ネズミ.

THE END

This 場所／位置 is 十分な of FREE ebooks - 事業／計画（する） Gutenberg Australia