A QUARTER OF A MILLENIA IN JAIL

OUR HOME 

 

    Mine's a conquered people. 

    It was captured a quarter of a millenia ago, 

    In a stupid war, like all wars are. 

    Its home became an alien home, 

    Carrying the name of  our old one, 

    That it to say Canada, 

    First a colonie française, 

    Then an English one, 

    Then a British kingdom, 

    It used to be a godforsaken place, 

    Made of cold, snow, and ice, 

    But it was our own godforsaken place, 

    Now it's still a godforsaken place, just not or own.

             Since that time, a quarter of a millenia ago,

            My people has waited, and waited, 

            And waited, and waited, and waited,

           For our fathers and mothers to come back

            And help us becoming free, once again,

            But nobody ever came, 

            Nobody ever came,

            And Canada remained an alien home.

            It can't be denied no more

            That we'll have to do it ourselves,

            One day, one glorious day,

            We would have to build our own house,

            A place that we could call our home,

            OUR own home, once again.

QU'IL EST LONG, LE CHEMIN DE LA LIBERTÉ...

Charles Millar