A touch of the plain and the prairie,
A bit of the Motherland, too;
A strain of the fur-trapper wary,
A blend of the old and the new;
A bit of the pioneer splendor
That opened the wilderness' flats,
A touch of the home-lover, tender,
You'll find in the boys they call Pat's.
The glory and grace of the maple,
The strength that is born of the wheat,
The pride of a stock that is staple,
The bronze of a midsummer heat;
A blending of wisdom and daring,
The best of a new land, and that's
The regiment gallantly bearing
The neat little title of Pat's.
A bit of the man who has neighbored
With mountains and forests and streams,
A touch of the man who has labored
To model and fashion his dreams;
The strength of an age of clean living,
Of right-minded fatherly chats,
The best that a land could be giving
Is there in the breasts of the Pat's.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The princess pats are a infantry regiment in Canada. They were, and are still known as one of the best fighting units in the world.... Their home bases have been on the prairies...Alberta Canada..., there were 3 battalions, one was airborne, and may still be...as I am now in my eighties, and have not kept up with them., but I do know they were agreat and wonderful buncj...those Pats! Iserved with them. Known also as the Princess Patricias Canadian Light Infantry, or P.P.C.L.I.