I have roots that go back
To Dublin in old Ireland
I think we were part of those
That left during one of the famines
And my great grandmother
Always wore the green on St Patrick's Day
I never met her but I'm told she had a temper
That took her out one Christmas Day
I'd like to have known more about them
My forebears who journeyed to Australia
All those years ago from Ireland
Leaving all they knew behind them
When I went back there I thought I'd feel
More attachment to that land
But as I walked the streets of Dublin
I found out that I am all Australian
Your country is where you were born and grew up
Even though your roots are elsewhere.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem