THE BANNER IT FLYS WITH SUCH PRIDE
HOW THEY WOULD BE PLEASED IF IT DIED
THEY LIVE TO THE SOUTH AND LOOK TO THE NORTH WITH HATE
THEY AIM TO TEAR DOWN THE GATE
TRI-COLOUR DOES PROUDLY FLUTTER
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS THEY MUTTER
THEY SHOOT AND THEY BOMB LOADS MORE INNCOCENT BODIES TO SEE,
THEY SHOUT IRELAND WILL BE FREE
THEY'RE CATHOLIC THEY'RE IRISH THEY'RE STRONG
DO NOT SAY THAT THEY ARE WRONG
YET THEY CLAIM OPRESSION THEY LOOK PAST THE SEA AND THEY SCORN
THEY FEEL THAT THEY NEED TO MOURN
THEY DO NOT HEED ULSTER'S WISH
FOR THAT WISH IS TO BE BRITISH
THEY WILL NOT STOP AS BOTH SIDES KNOW THEY ARE RIGHT
THAT IS WHY BOTH OF THEM FIGHT
A NEW BORN BABY CRIES
CRIES THROUGH CATHOLIC EYES
PRIOR THEY'RE DRIED HIS DAD CRIES DEATH TO ANGLE-LAND
NOT A CHANCE DOES THIS BOY STAND
YET THEY SAY THIS ABOUT US
A VICIOUS CIRCLE HAS NO END.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
What a load this is. Let the planters go somewhere else if they do not wish the North to be joined with the South.