Luyện nghe bài hát The Rebel

I am of the seed of the people, the people that sorrow;
Who no treasure but hope,
No laid up but a memory of an ancient glory
My bore me in bondage, in bondage my mother was born,
I am of the of serfs;
The children with whom I have played, the men and with whom I have eaten
Have had masters them, have been under the lash of masters,
and gentle, have served churls.
The hands that have mine,
the hands whose touch Is familiar to me
Have worn shameful manacles, have bitten at the wrist by manacles,
have grown hard the manacles and the task-work of strangers.
I am flesh of the flesh of lowly, I am bone of their bone I that have never submitted;
I that have a soul than the souls of my people's masters,
I that have vision and prophecy, and the gift of speech,
I that spoken with God on the top of his holy hill.
And because I am of the people, I the people,
I am sorrowful with their sorrow, I am with their desire;
My heart is with the grief of mothers,
My eyes been wet with the tears of children,
I have with old wistful men,
And laughed and with young men;
Their shame is my shame, and I reddened for it
Reddened for they have served, they who should be free
Reddened for that they have gone in want, while others been full,
Reddened for that they have walked in fear of lawyers and jailors.
With their Writs of Summons and handcuffs,
Men and cruel.
I could have borne on my body
than this shame of my people.
And now I speak, being of vision:
I speak to my people, and I speak in my name to
The of my people:
I say to my people that are holy,
That they are despite their chains.
That they are greater than that hold them
And and purer,
they have but need of courage, and to call on the name of their God,
God the unforgetting, the dear God who loves the
For he died naked, suffering shame.
And I say to my people's Beware
Beware of the thing is coming, beware of the risen people
Who take what ye would not give.
Did ye to conquer the people, or that law is stronger than life,
And than desire to be free?
We try it out with you ye that have harried and held,
Ye have bullied and bribed.
Tyrants... hypocrites... liars!