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The Gleaner of Sapri

Written By: Luigi Mercantini
Born: 20th September 1821, Ripatransone - Italy
Died: 17th November 1872 (aged 51) Palermo - Italy
Occupation: Poet, Lyricist and Writer




 


They were three hundred; they were young and strong,
And they are dead!
That morning I was going out to glean;
A ship in the middle of the sea was seen
A barque it was of those that go by steam,
And from its top a tricolor flag did stream.
It anchored off the isle of Ponza; then
It stopped awhile, and then it turned again
Toward this place, and here they came ashore.
They came with arms, but not on us made war.
They were three hundred; they were young and strong,
And they are dead!They came in arms, but not on us made war;
But down they stooped until they kissed the shore,
And one by one I looked them in the face,--
A tear and smile in each one I could trace.
They were all thieves and robbers, their foes said.
They never took from us a loaf of bread.
I heard them utter nothing but this cry:
"We have come to die, for our dear land to die."
They were three hundred; they were young and strong,
And they are dead!With his blue eyes and with his golden hair
There was a youth that marched before them there,
And I made bold and took him by the hand,
And "Whither goest thou, captain of this band?"
He looked at me and said: "Oh, sister mine,
I'm going to die for this dear land of thine."
I felt my bosom tremble through and through;
I could not say, "May the Lord help you!"
They were three hundred; they were young and strong,
And they are dead!I did forget to glean afield that day,
But after them I wandered on their way.
And twice I saw them fall on the gendarmes,
And both times saw them take away their arms,
But when they came to the Certosa's wall
There rose a sound of horns and drums, and all
Amidst the smoke and shot and darting flame
More than a thousand foemen fell on them.
They were three hundred; they were young and strong,
And they are dead!They were three hundred and they would not fly;
They seemed three thousand and they chose to die.
They chose to die with each his sword in hand.
Before them ran their blood upon the land;
I prayed for them while I could see them fight,
But all at once I swooned and lost the sight;
I saw no more with them that captain fair,
With his blue eyes and with his golden hair.
They were three hundred; they were young and strong,
And they are dead.


Comment:

This is a lyric poem with a great historical value, it tells us the reaction of the population around Naples after the arriving of 300 men lead by the captain Pisacane, their goal was to free the population from the Borbons.

This poem was written by Mercantini after the failure of this battle.

Thanks to this poem today we are remembering this heroes, their weapons were the liberty, and the end of the oppression through the unification of a nation from the Alpes to Sicily.

Pisacane, the captain, is described as a man with gold hair like the ears of corn  and blue eyes, like the adriatic sea, and with a great ideal of freedom and altruism  to fight and to Die for his beautiful Italy"

The last lines are full of pathos, the soldiers seem to three thousands rather than three hundred, in this context we should not consider the arithmetic but their ideal and their creed for a free and prosperous nation.  
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