Dumitru Nistor prizonier de război în Japonia, item 95

• March 24, 2017 14:15:24 Ioan Tomoiaga

  130. Imnul Statelor unite

  Hymn to the Republic

  bji Grosvenor Clarkson

  ”I turn, then and look American people, and

  to that God who has never forsaken them”

  - Abraham Lincoln 1862

  I

  Heed not the little mounting talk of little men

  Weigh long the faintest whisper of Almighti God;

  Peer far into the vistas of the common ken.

  Seek out the vision of the genius an the clod;

  Brood deep, O thou my contury silent to the gales

  That roar their pregnant furies' round thy noble dreams.

  Sons of the North, hold firm the scales!

  II

  Across the crjiptic seas beneath red reeling skies

  Old lands in travail call the unawakened queen

  Of alt the western world to sweep with them where dies

  Or lives, their hope, which sentiment right alone keeps green;

  Where battle gods that foolish men thought dead swing fla-ils

  Of wrath and lust from sun to sun, from star to star

  Sons of the East hold firm the scales

  III

  Brood deep, O thou my contury! Choose ye the peace

  That may-who knows ?- corrode thi mighty frame,

  Or do ye cast thy all into a timeless lease

  
  

• March 12, 2017 12:01:39 Tatiana Danilova

  130. Imnul Statelor unite

  Hymn to the Republic

  bji Grosvenor Clarkson

  ”I turn, then and look American people, and

  to that God who has never forsaken them”

  - Abraham Lincoln 1862

  I

  Heed not the little mounting talk of little men

  Weigh long the faintest whisper of Almighti God;

  Peer far into the vistas of the common ken.

  Seek out the vision of the genius an the clod;

  Brood deep, O thou my contury silent to the gales

  That roar their pregnant furies' round thy noble dreams.

  Sons of the North, hold firm the scales!

  II

  Across the crjiptic seas beneath red reeling skies

  Old lands in travail call the unawakened queen

  Of akk the western world to sweep with them where dies

  Or lives, their hope, which sentiment right alone keeps green;

  Where battle gods that foolish men thought dead swing fla-ils

  Of wrath and lust from sun to sun, from star to star

  Sons of the East hold firm the scales

  III

  Brood deep, O thou my contury! Choose ye the peace

  That may-who knows ?- corrode thi mighty frame,

  Or do ye cast thy all into a timeless lease

  
  

  
  

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