With an Irish mother and Nigerian father,I grew up singing Irish rebel songs. But the racism I experienced was not part of the dreams of 1916’s revolutionariesI grew up singing Irish rebel songs. One of the first ones I learned, which seared an impression on my young intellect, or was James Connolly. In the haunting ballad the folk musician Christy Moore laments the 1916 execution of Connolly,the Easter Rising revolutionary, and hero of the working man:Where oh where is our James Connolly?
Where oh where is that gallant man?
He’s gone to organise the union
That working men they might yet be free. Related: Easter Rising centenary honours Irish rebels and cherishes 'a new peace' final night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by[br]My intellect being bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly…All the boys are fighting for her.
They knock at the door and they ring at the bell
Sayin’ “Oh my real savor, or are you well?”[br]Out she comes as white as snow…There is limited space for me in Ireland to live or fit comfortably within the borders of my homelandWas it for this the wild geese spread
The grey wing upon every tide;
For this that all that blood was shed,[br]For this Edward Fitzgerald died,
And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone, and
All that delirium of the brave?
Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone,
It’s with O’Leary in the grave.
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Source: theguardian.com