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Nachdem ich dieser Tage den (sehr empfehlenswerten) Film "The Wind That Shakes the Barley" über den irischen Unabhängigkeitskrieg der 1920er Jahre angeschaut habe, kriege ich einfach die irische Ballade nicht mehr aus dem Kopf, die dem Film ihren Titel geliehen hat: I sat within the valley green, I sat me with my true love, My sad heart strove the two between, the old love and the new love, - The old for her, the new that made me think on Ireland dearly, While soft the wind blew down the glen and shook the golden barley. 'Twas hard the woeful words to frame to break the ties that bound us But harder still to bear the shame of foreign chains around us And so I said, "The mountain glen I'll seek at morning early And join the bold united men!" While soft winds shake the barley. While sad I kissed away her tears, my fond arms round her flinging, The foeman's shot burst on our ears from out the wildwood ringing, - A bullet pierced my true love's side in life's young spring so early, And on my breast in blood she died while soft winds shook the barley! But blood for blood without remorse I've taken at Oulart Hollow And laid my true love's clay cold corpse where I full soon may follow; As round her grave I wander drear, noon, night and morning early, With breaking heart when e'er I hear the wind that shakes the barley!