There's blue skies across the bay,
Sunshine on December days,
And white horses over the waves,
That fall on Catalonia,
The northern winter's dull and grey,
And peace so easily slips away,
Many's the young one sails away,
To fight in Catalonia.
Barcelona's dressed in banners bright,
And ballad singers in the night,
With voices high they tell of the fight,
That breaks in Catalonia,
The world's eyes turn on Spain,
Where everyone's a child again,
And right and wrong it seems so plain,
On roads to Catalonia.
On mountain slopes in pallid sun,
Ragged soldiers sing a song,
The boy so soon becomes a man,
On hills in Catalonia,
And frost turns the trenches white,
And sentries shiver in the night,
And snipers kill in the early light,
From peaks in Catalonia.
There's sleepless nights and endless days,
When dice are thrown and cards are played,
The young one learns a soldiers ways,
On hills in Catalonia.
But there the soldier finds no fame,
And many will never see home again,
The lucky ones they catch the train,
For leave in Catalonia.
In railway cars the soldiers dream,
Of feather beds and Spanish wine,
With girls who're waiting by the line,
For trains in Catalonia,
In Barcelona no one speaks,
And tired soldiers find no peace,
And spies haunt the empty streets,
Of towns in Catalonia.
In river valleys and mountain sides,
Soldiers now are force to hide,
The fate of Spain the world decides,
And that of Catalonia.
The sun sinks in the Spanish sky,
And darkness comes to hide the lie,
The young ones now must run or die,
On the fields of Catalonia.
But flowers bloom in the Spanish Spring,
And small birds they find their wings,
And hope sings on summer winds,
To those of Catalonia,
On old fields new seed is grown,
And not in vain the good die young,
For those of heart this song is sung,
For the child of Catalonia.
(Phil & June Colclough)
(Sung by Eleanor Shanley on Dé Danann's Jacket of Batteries, it's exceptionally beautiful and poignant)