VIVA PATRIA – By Joseph Maciel
O land of Goans! O land of our birth,
O Mother Goa, you fill us with mirth!
Fair land of paddy fields and coconut palms,
You welcome us always with outstretched arms!
Land of our Sires, we feast our eyes
On thy golden paddy fields and palms-o-paradise,
Which softly and gently caressed by the breeze,
Greatly enchant us, and always do please.
We’ve sailed far away from your distant shore,
But we’ll think of you always for days evermore;
And when we come home in April and May,
Our hearts you’ll delight and make us feel gay.
We loved you before, we love you today,
We’ll love you even when our hair has turned grey;
We’ll remember you fondly when we are old,
As beautiful Goa, a land of Gold!
Ne’er will we forget your sandy shore,
Your mango trees and cashews galore;
Your big fat jack-fruits and bananas so nice,
We find such delight in eating a slice!
Your sun-kissed fields of onions and chillies,
And the sweet wild fruit from the rocky hillies,
Fill our hearts with joy and with mirth,
“Viva Patria! You’re a Heaven on earth!”
How green are your valleys, how happy your pigs,
How sweetly the birdies do sing on the twigs.
How lively are Pedru and Mauxi Mae hal
Who are always ready to tell us a tale.
We delight in fishing, we delight in rowing,
Crossing the ferry while the cattle are lowing;
Your country-side rivers and grand water-ways
Gladden our hearts, so we fill you with praise.
Small are our dwellings, but awfully decent,
They are pretty old but still look decent;
Sunny are your valleys, and green are your leas,
With cows and sheep grazing, with pleasure and ease.
Majestic your churches and fine is the view,
Where all is old and nothing is new;
But old is gold and so are you,
To the fair land of Goa, ever be true!
Fair are your pools and fairer the streams,
“Viva Patria”, the land of my dreams!
Sweet is the air we breathe all around,
Fertile the soil that here can be found.
We rise in the morning at six of the clock,
That is the time for the crow of the cock;
We toil in the fields, till the grey twilight
Makes the farmer plod homewards to rest for the night.
Then silence is golden and all is so still,
No stir in the air, no stir on the hill;
All beasts and birds, homeward do go
And the silvery waters so softly do flow.
O land of our birth, we love you still,
For our weary hearts with much joy you fill;
We’ll fight to the last for freedom and right,
And bleed ourselves far whiter than white.
Sweet little jewel sparkling at night!
O Goa!, you are a wonderful sight;
Panjim and Ribandar how your lights do shine
From Saloi’s old hill, you really look fine!
O fair native land, under Portugal’s sway,
We’ll fight to the end and always pray
To see you soon quite happy and free,
“Viva Patria,” cries our blood over the sea!
(These verses were composed when Joseph was in Standard VII at St. Paul’s Belgaum in 1944. Years later, as Fr. Joseph Maciel, S.J., he was Rector of St
Stanislaus High School, Bandra and Parish Priest of St. Peter’s Bandra. Fr. Joseph,
the eldest brother of Mervyn(UK) and the late Wilfred(Kenya)
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