Cruel was the bleak day when the English landlords broke our hearts. Burning homes of Irish poor, evicted out in the snow, abandoned. Our rents we could not pay. Crops failed and cattle died. We fled to American shores. In the rain of New York, no one could see our Irish tears.
Michael Cochrane ©
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A thought provoking poem! I can catch the emotions of the poet from this poignantly expressed composition! !