The Irish Guards – par Rudyard Kipling

En octobre 1915, Rudyard Kipling perdit son fils John, jeune officier au 2nd Battalion Irish Guards, lors des combats qui suivirent l’offensive britannique sur Loos. En hommage, Kipling rédigea ce très beau poème en dressant un parallèle historique entre la Brigade Irlandaise qui servit Louis XV et Louis XVI avec les Irish Guards (levés en 1901 par Victoria*) engagés en France en 1915.

We’re not so old in the Army List,
But we’re not so young at our trade,
For we had the honour at Fontenoy
Of meeting the Guards’ Brigade.     

’Twas Lally, Dillon, Bulkeley, Clare,
And Lee that led us then,
And after a hundred and seventy years
We’re fighting for France again!
Old Days! The wild geese are flighting,       

Head to the storm as they faced it before!
For where there are Irish there’s bound to be fighting,
And when there’s no fighting, it’s Ireland no more!
Ireland no more!

The fashion’s all for khaki now,
But once through France we went,
Full-dressed in scarlet Army cloth,
The English – left at Ghent.                                                                                        

They’re fighting on our side to-day.
But, before they changed their clothes,
The half of Europe knew our fame,
As all of Ireland knows !                                                                                                    

Old Days ! The wild geese are flying,
Head to the storm as they faced it before !
For where there are Irish there’s memory undying,
And when we forget, it is Ireland no more !                                                                    

Ireland no more !

From Barry Wood to Gouzeaucourt,
From Boyne to Pilkem Ridge,
The ancient days come back no more
Than water under the bridge.
But the bridge it stands and the water runs
As red as yesterday.                                                                                                          

And the Irish move to the sound of the guns
Like salmon to sea.
Old Days ! The wild geese are ranging,
Head to the storm as they faced it before !                                                                         

For where there are Irish their hearts are unchanging,
And when they are changed, it is  Ireland no more !
Ireland no more !

We’re not so old in the Army List,
But we’re not so new in the ring.
For we carried our packs with Marshal Saxe
When Louis was our King.                                                                                                

But Douglas Haig’s our Marshal now.
And we’re King George’s men.
And after, one hundred and seventy years.
We’re fighting for France again !

Ah, France ! And did we stand by you,
When Life was made splendid with gifts and rewards ?
And when we stop either, it’s Ireland no more !
Ireland no More !

* Après la bataille du Cap contre les Boers en 1901.