Non martscharhéu ingen mhor

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Non martscharhéu ingen mhor (pronounced [non mɐɾt̪͡ʃɐˈr̝eʊ̯ ˈiŋəɱ ṽɔɾ]) is the Talossan version of Phil Ochs’ “I Ain’t Marching Anymore”, translated by Dréu Gavárþic'h in 2008/XXIX, with corrections and changes made by Magniloqueu Épiqeu da Lhiun in 2019/XL.

Text

Talossan translation Original text
Ac’h, martscheveu àl vatal da Nova Oreljà
Àl fim dal zuería Britanic
La tzara xhovan cultiveva
El sang xhovan curçeva
Mas non martscharhéu ingen mhor

Aucideveu va cotía d’Anischinaes
in ‘n mil cumbats únderschidlec'hs
J’esteveu àl Tac’htschijátxe
Ausculteveu, multeux vürs fibats
Videveu iven pü deceßats
Mas, non martscharhéu ingen mhor

C’e imrè els seneschen qi noi ducent à la zuería
Imrè els xhovans qi là tombent
Risguardetz àl qe gagnevent cün sverdeu es arma
Es na-me, ¿e-ça qe ça valora?

Furteveu la Californica da México
Combateveu in la Zuería Citanal
Üc, aucideveu va fratreux
Es sa mült altreux
Mas, non martscharhéu ingen mhor

Martscheveu àls vatais dal trancea Tütsch
N’iensa zuería qe terminadra toct las zuerías
Fosteveu aucidarh 'n miglhiun da vürs
Es nun me volent 'n altreu fäts
Non martscharhéu ingen mhor

C'e imrè els seneschen qi noi ducent à la zuería
Imrè els xhovans qi là tombent
Risguardetz àl qe gagnevent cün sverdeu es arma
Es na-me, ¿e-ça qe ça valora?

Voleveu la miziun final in els çéux Txaponeschti
Relascheveu la despeira atomic
Quand tent videscu las citaes brenadas, säpeveu qe aprendeveu
Qe non martschadréu ingen mhor

Els duceux sündicais crident
quand si ferma 'n factorà
United Fruit crida à Cjuva
Lo clametz “päx”, lo clametz “tradaziun”
Lo clametz “amor”, eda “raziun”,
Mas non martscharhéu ingen mhor
Näi, non martscharhéu ingen mhor
Oh I marched to the battle of New Orleans
At the end of the early British war
The young land started growing
The young blood started flowing
But I ain’t marchin’ anymore

For I’ve killed my share of Indians
In a thousand different fights
I was there at the Little Big Horn
I heard many men a lying
I saw many more a dying
But I ain’t marchin’ anymore

It’s always the old to lead us to the war
It’s always the young to fall
Now look at all we’ve won with the saber and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all?

For I stole California from the Mexican land
Fought in the bloody Civil War
Yes I even killed my brothers
And so many others
But I ain’t marchin’ anymore

For I marched to the battles of the German trench
In a war that was bound to end all wars
Oh I must have killed a million men
And now they want me back again
But I ain’t marchin’ anymore

It’s always the old to lead us to the war
It’s always the young to fall
Now look at all we’ve won with the saber and the gun
Tell me is it worth it all?

For I flew the final mission in the Japanese sky
Set off the mighty mushroom roar
When I saw the cities burning I knew that I was learning
That I ain’t marchin’ anymore

Now the labor leader’s screamin’
when they close the missile plants,
United Fruit screams at the Cuban shore,
Call it “Peace” or call it “Treason,”
Call it “Love” or call it “Reason,”
But I ain’t marchin’ any more,
No I ain’t marchin’ any more