Dans son nouvel album Unsongs, le chanteur norvégien Moddi a choisi de rendre hommage aux chanteurs et poètes persécutés, interdits, censurés et/ou assassinés, en adaptant 12 chansons dont la troisième est celle de Matoub Lounes «Aɣuru» qui parodie l’hymne national algérien.

Le chanteur norvégien entame sa tournée internationale ce mardi soir par un concert à Paris à l’occasion de la sortie de son album « Unsongs » dans lequel il reprend 12 chansons censurées ou interdites d’antenne en leur temps, oeuvres d’artistes assassinés, emprisonnés ou exilés pour leur engagement politique, et dont fait partie « Aɣuru », l’œuvre parodiant l’hymne national algérien en kabyle et qui a coûté la vie au chantre de la Kabylie, Lounès Matoub, assassiné par le pouvoir arabo-islamique algérien en 1998.

 

Voici le texte de l’adaptation de la chanson de Matoub en Anglais par Moddi

Dans son nouvel album Unsongs, le chanteur norvégien Moddi a choisi de rendre hommage aux chanteurs et poètes persécutés, interdits
Dans son nouvel album Unsongs, le chanteur norvégien Moddi a choisi de rendre hommage aux chanteurs et poètes persécutés, interdits

What’s the point waiting for the doorman to drop the key?
You’ll be gone long before this evil falls asleep.
What’s the point waiting for a better day to come along?
They will bow to their dogs before they see our reign come.
First the French decamped and left us with the garbage.
Then our flag was dyed with Islam and Arabic.
They forgot to whom this country once belonged.
There is always someone here to take the throne.
Traitors, traitors, traitors.

Did you believe that they would listen just because they said they would?
How naïve! They’ve always been too righteous for their own good.
For you know, power is addictive to the one it wields.
They have sown with evil hands and harvest our tragedy.

First the French decamped and left us with the garbage.
Then our flag was dyed with Islam and Arabic.
They turned a blind eye to Algeria’s free men.
We could have it all but were enslaved again.
Traitors, traitors, traitors.

All the same we will never let them have their filthy ways.
We remain! These are our mountains; this is our place.
We will break through the the door and have what’s ours all along.
For without us Algeria is suffering on her own.

So come the rain, come the wind come the hunger.
We won’t sit and wait for freedom any longer.
We must sacrifice the arm to save the heart.
We will split the land before it falls apart.

First the French decamped and left us with the garbage.
Then our flag was dyed with Islam and Arabic.
But our roots go deep and our will is strong.
We will cling onto the land where we belong.
Traitors, traitors, traitors.

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