Diggers did stand up to the mighty crown
This sabbath morn in eighteen fifty four
And many would die on this sacred ground
In this fight against oppressive crown law
Here Jews, Fenians, Protestants and blacks
Were massacred by the English red coats
They revolted to end an unfair tax
And for that their bodies in blood were soaked
The battle of the eureka stockade
Where miners were bayoneted to death
Those that were wounded on that very day
Were murdered until their last dying breath
Her majesty's forces gave no quarter
Inhuman butchery they did inflict
Even those who surrendered were slaughtered
In this savage and brutal conflict
Two hundred and fifty years have passed now
Since this infamous and bloody day
Yet under the southern cross, in the towns
Blue and white eureka flags are still raised
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem