The Foreign Legion
They must not tread on the soil of France,
Or the land of their hot, wild youth long vanished;
They have no share in the world's romance,
They only live with the banned and banished.
Their ranks are filled with the world-wide scamps,
From the Melbourne crook to the fair Norwegian —
From the Golden Gate to the Cossack camps
They send recruits to the Foreign Legion.
They are only known to a mother's heart,
With a weight of years and sorrow on her;
She only knows he will play his part
With a brave boy's grit and a black sheep's honour.
She wonders where he is fighting now
(As the friends of the Legion often wondered),
For the world and France, and a name disgraced
And lost to him when his hot youth blundered!
Somewhere down, I think, by the Suez banks,
In the burning sand of that torrid region,
She could surely find in the Allies' ranks
Her well-loved scamp of the Foreign Legion!
Or the land of their hot, wild youth long vanished;
They have no share in the world's romance,
They only live with the banned and banished.
Their ranks are filled with the world-wide scamps,
From the Melbourne crook to the fair Norwegian —
From the Golden Gate to the Cossack camps
They send recruits to the Foreign Legion.
They are only known to a mother's heart,
With a weight of years and sorrow on her;
She only knows he will play his part
With a brave boy's grit and a black sheep's honour.
She wonders where he is fighting now
(As the friends of the Legion often wondered),
For the world and France, and a name disgraced
And lost to him when his hot youth blundered!
Somewhere down, I think, by the Suez banks,
In the burning sand of that torrid region,
She could surely find in the Allies' ranks
Her well-loved scamp of the Foreign Legion!
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.