Irish blood
flows through my veins
A tired flood
host of historical pains
pains from the butting of heads
between faiths in contention
that of loving liquid so divine
a hope of false redemption
famines and floods
castles and violence
the people against king
for Ireland they will sing.
(3/17/05)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This speaks volumes very succinctly. Chrissie