Francis Duggan


On Those Old Brown Hills By Wonthaggi - Poem by Francis Duggan

On those old brown hills by Wonthaggi 'tis said there once were many trees
Where the black tribes lived in the Dreamtime and enjoyed their many Corroborees
Till the pioneers came and cut the trees down and the tribal people went to live elsewhere
Another word for dispossession but all in life is never fair.

On those old brown hills by Wonthaggi where cattle and sheep live today
Descendants of the animals the pioneers brought with them from their old home Countries far away
Overlooking the Pacific ocean an old man the years had left gray
Told me amongst those hills in a lost graveyard the bones of the tribal chiefs lay

On those old brown hills by Wonthaggi the spirits of the Bunurong
At midnight still dance their Corroborees this Country to their tribe belong
They will always be the first Australians and of their lands they took such good care
The Country they loved much worse off without them and those old hills are now looking bare.

To those old brown hills by Wonthaggi the Seasons and years come and go
And I a migrant from the Northlands so little of this Country know
The Bunurong the first Race of South Gippsland were those sinned against and oppressed
By people of skin colour like mine and my song is for the dispossessed.


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Poem Submitted: Monday, April 7, 2008



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