The Three Salutes

New Zealand Listener, Volume 12, Issue 311, 8 June 1945, Page 18

The Three Salutes

e ON of the items in the Victory Programme from Station 1ZB was a poem by the Frenchman. Henry Micard de Fleurigny, the poet of the two FrancoGerman wars, who played a distinguished part in the war of 1870. This poem was adapted by his nephew, Etienne Micard (now of Auckland) with the change of only a word or. two, to suit the present | occasion. The poem is in the nature of a salute to General de Gdulle-a three-fold salute, from the Army, from the workers, and from the writers and thinkers, Here is the English translation, done by M.° Micard who, it may be remembered, was interviewed recently in "The Listener." ' :

HARLES DE GAULLE, to thee the salute of the sword In the ever-thrilling name of the oldtime epics; So watt, all ye colours, Curving and cracking in the breeze; Ring out, all ye bells, And make the Cathedrals tremble! So roar, all ye steel cannons; Blare out, all ye trumpets! Brightly gleam, helmets of our officers! Shine, ye metals; flash, ye beacons; Arise, ye knights of old, On the threshold of your tombs, To wave once more ) Your flying banners! . Ye laurels of Remembrance Entwine the laurels of the Future And as in the far-off days of the epics of old, Charles de Gaulle-to thee the salute of the sword, % Fs * HARLES DE GAULLE, to thee the salute of the anvil In the name of the workers, denim-clad; So up then, in the farms, Ye shepherds and harvesters; Stand to in the foundries, Journeymen and colliers; Designers of machines, Sheet-steel beaters in the flattingmills, ~ Lift up your heads, straighten your backs, And wave your black caps; From the workroom and the factory, Mutftling the din of the stampers, Breaking through the resinous fumes, Piercing the dust from the slagheaps, Let a shout of Hope thunder forth, And from every factory yard in France, In the name of the workers, denim-clad, Charles de Gaulle-to thee the salute of the anvil. * * oe (CHARLES DE GAULLE, to thee the salute of the.pen In the name of the spirit where the Flame is lit; Thus sing, ye youthful minstrels, To the sound of the harp and the lyre; Let verses that tell of rapture Blossom from your mind inspired; Ye, the great master writers, Exalt these symbolical times; Bless the divine enactments, Ye, scholars and speakers the world o’er; And join ye all in the same prayer, For here’s the Cross of Lorraine Mounting the rim of the sky; Along with the shouted word of our " Sponsor Which will rebound, as from a springboard, Unto the banks of the Rhine, After that of the Sword and that of the Anvil, General, to thee the salute of the Pen.