Генри Лоусон (Henry Lawson)

Freedom on the Wallaby

Australia’s a big country 
An’ Freedom’s humping bluey, 
An’ Freedom’s on the wallaby 
Oh! don’t you hear ’er cooey? 
She’s just begun to boomerang, 
She’ll knock the tyrants silly, 
She’s goin’ to light another fire 
And boil another billy. 

Our fathers toiled for bitter bread 
While loafers thrived beside ’em, 
But food to eat and clothes to wear, 
Their native land denied ’em. 
An’ so they left their native land 
In spite of their devotion, 
An’ so they came, or if they stole, 
Were sent across the ocean. 

Then Freedom couldn’t stand the glare 
O’ Royalty’s regalia, 
She left the loafers where they were, 
An’ came out to Australia. 
But now across the mighty main 
The chains have come ter bind her – 
She little thought to see again 
The wrongs she left behind her. 

Our parents toil’d to make a home – 
Hard grubbin ’twas an’ clearin’ – 
They wasn’t crowded much with lords 
When they was pioneering. 
But now that we have made the land 
A garden full of promise, 
Old Greed must crook ’is dirty hand 
And come ter take it from us. 

So we must fly a rebel flag, 
As others did before us, 
And we must sing a rebel song 
And join in rebel chorus. 
We’ll make the tyrants feel the sting 
O’ those that they would throttle; 
They needn’t say the fault is ours 
If blood should stain the wattle!

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