Hold up yer heads, tho' at poor workin men
Simple rich ens may laff an' may scorn;
May be they ne'er haddled ther riches thersen,
Somdy else lived afoor they wor born,
As noble a heart may be fun in a man
'At's a poor fusten coit for his best,
An 'at knows he mun work or else he mun clam,
As yo'll find i' one mich better drest.
Soa, here's to all th' workers wheariver they be,
I'th' land, or i'th' loom, or i'th' saddle;
And the dule tak all them 'at wod mak us less free,
Or rob us o'th' wages we haddle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem