Non martscharhéu ingen mhor

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