Those mountains I lived near years ago are never far away
And Jack Johnny's field by Clara hill I climb it every day
I see old Caherbarnagh and the Paps beyond Rathmore
And Duhallow fields are looking green as anytime before.
My face looks old but I feel young and at heart I'm still a boy
The small brown lark with melodious voice is singing in the sky
And singing, singing as she soar till in clouds she disappear
The tiny bird gone from my view but still her voice I hear.
Why should I miss what I still have, why should I waste a tear?
For green Duhallow and her fields when she is still so near
In the high wood by Pomeroy's field I hear the robin sing
It can't be long till roses bloom, it can't be long till Spring.
Why should I miss what I still have, what still belong to me?
The chaffinch with the bright pink breast sings on the hawthorn tree
And pied wagtail chirps and wags his tail and none so proud as he
Why should I miss what I still have the soul has eyes to see.
Why should I miss what I still have what was and is still mine?
The first daisy her beauty show to early March sunshine
And young lambs in the mountain fields around their mothers play
And those hills I lived near years ago are still so near today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem