It's been fifteen years I remember and now I'm fifty four
Since I last walked from Millstreet Town along the roadway to Rathmore
The fields of Inchaleigh and Claraghatlea North lit by the moon's faint light
And stars shone in the heavens on that November night.
The frostiness of late Fall blew in the freshening breeze
And the rustling sound of the dried leaves falling from the road side trees
I was walking for the last time where I had often walked before
Towards my home in Claraghatlea North on the roadway to Rathmore.
The wild cry of the dog fox out searching for a mate
In late Fall the strong urge in his kind a family to create
He found his mate and he spent with her three days and nights or four
And they mated in a furzy patch by the roadway to Rathmore.
I could even see the steel cross at the top of Clara Hill
And I could hear the familiar babbling of the little Glasheen Rill
But on that night the wanderlust was in me and my thoughts were of a distant shore
As I walked home in the moonlight on the roadway to Rathmore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem