„GIVE ME THREE GRAINS OF CORN, MOTHER.“
By Amelia Blanford Edwards
Give me three grains of corn, Mother,
Only three grains of corn;
It will keep the little life I have
Till the coming of the morn.
I am dying of hunger and cold, Mother,
Dying of hunger and cold;
And half the agony of such a death
My lips have never told.
It has gnawed like a wolf at my heart, Mother,
A wolf that is fierce for blood;
All the livelong day, and the night beside,
Gnawing for lack of food.
I dreamed of bread in my sleep, Mother,
And the sight was heaven to see;
I awoke with an eager, famishing lip,
But you had no bread for me.
How could I look to you, Mother,
How could I look to you
For bread to give to your starving boy,
When you were starving too?
For I read the famine in your cheek,
And in your eyes so wild,
And I felt it in your bony hand,
As you laid it on your child.
The Queen has lands and gold, Mother,
The Queen has lands and gold,
While you are forced to your empty breast
A skeleton babe to hold-
A babe that is dying of want, Mother,
As I am dying now,
With a ghastly look in its sunken eye,
And famine upon its brow.
There is many a brave heart here, Mother,
Dying of want and cold,
While only across the Channel, Mother,
Are many that roll in gold;
There are rich and proud men there, Mother,
With wondrous wealth to view,
And the bread they fling to their dogs tonight
Would give life to me and you.
What has poor Ireland done, Mother,
What has poor Ireland done,
That the world looks on, and sees us starve,
Perishing one by one?
Do the men of England care not, Mother,
The great men and the high,
For the suffering sons of Erin’s Isle,
Whether they live or die?
Come nearer to my side, Mother,
Come nearer to my side,
And hold me fondly, as you held
My father when he died;
Quick, for I cannot see you, Mother,
My breath is almost gone;
Mother! Dear Mother! Ere I die,
Give me three grains of corn.
„THE SONG OF THE FAMINE“ By Anomymous
Want! want! want! Under the harvest moon;
Want! want! want! Thro’ dark December’s gloom;
To face the fasting day upon the frozen flags!
And fasting turn away to cower beneath a rag.
Food! food! food! Beware before you spurn,
Ere the cravings of the famishing to loathing madness turn;For hunger is a fearful spell, And fearful work is done,
Where the key to many a reeking crime is the curse of living on !
For horrid instincts cleave unto the starving life,
And the crumbs they grudge from plenty’s feast but lengthen out the strife –
But lengthen out the pest upon the fetid air,
Alike within the country hut and the city’s crowded lair.
Home! home! home! A dreary, fireless hole –
A miry floor and a dripping roof, and a little straw — its whole.
Only the ashes that smoulder not, their blaze was long ago,And the empty space for kettle and pot where once they stood in a row!
Only the naked coffin of deal, and the little body within,
I cannot shut it out from my sight, so hunger-bitten and thin; –
I hear the small weak moan – the stare of the hungry eye,
Though my heart was full of a strange, strange joy the moment I saw it die.
I had food for it e’er yesterday, but the hard crust came too late –
It lay dry between the dying lips, and I loathed it — yet I ate.
Three children lie by a cold stark corpse In a room that’ s over head –
They have not strength to earn a meal,
Or sense to bury the dead!
And oh! but hunger’s a cruel heart, I shudder at my own,
As I wake my child at a tearless wake, All lightless and alone!
I think of the grave that waits, and waits but the dawn of day,
And a wish is rife in my weary heart –I strive and strive, but it won’t depart-
I cannot put it away.
Food! food! food! For the hopeless day’s begun;
Thank God there’s one the less to feed! I thank God it is my son!
And oh! the dirty winding sheet, and oh! the shallow grave!
Yet your mother envies you the same of all the alms they gave!
Death! death! death! In lane, and alley, and street,
Each hand is skinny that holds the bier, and totters each bearer’s feet;
The livid faces mock their woe, and the eyes refuse a tear;
For Famine’s gnawing every heart, and tramples on love and fear!
Cold! cold! cold! In the snow, and frost, and sleet,
Cowering over a fireless hearth, or perishing in the street,
Under the country’s hedge, On the cabin’s miry floor,
In hunger, sickness, and nakedness, it’s oh! God help the poor.
It’s oh! if the wealthy knew a tithe of the bitter dole
That coils and coils round the bursting heart like a fiend, to tempt the soul!
Hunger, and thirst, and nakedness, sorrow, and sickness, and cold,
It’s hard to bear when the blood is young, and hard when the blood is old.
Sick! sick! sick! With an aching, swimming brain,
And the fierceness of the fever-thirst, and the maddening famine pain.
On many a happy face to gaze as it passes by –
To turn from hard and pitiless hearts, and look up for leave to die.
Food! food! food! Through splendid street and square,
Food! food! food! Where is enough and to spare;
And ever so meager the dole that falls, What trembling fingers start,
The strongest snatch it from the weak, For hunger through walls of stone would break
FAIRY TALE ABOUT THE FAMINE
By Marielle Volper
A long, long time ago near Point Hope there was a village. The people of the village did not have much food because the animals were all
hiding. The people said to each other, „If we want to stay alive we will have to move.“
They packed up and they left their village. They went a long, long way. At last they found a place to stay, on the banks of the Yukon River. They looked around their new place. Someone shouted out, „There’s a caribou!“
The people were very excited. This was the first caribou any of them had seen in a long time. The animals had heard about the starving people. They felt bad for the people and came out of hiding. The animals let the people kill them and the people had many caribou to eat.
A BILLION STARVING PEOPLE