A mermaid’s harp plays to smooth
The wild waves, that crash against
Centuries tears and heartache.
Crying children run barefooted across
Blood soaked fields, while banners
Are saluted to the fallen heroes.
Martyred hearts and souls rejoice
In tearful ballads, sung from
Saddened mouths.
Freedoms flame
And the imprisoned pain, shall
Never fray, while the remaining voice
From the grave is James Connolly’s.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem