Die Asche meiner Mutter - Irische Erinnerungen

chowder.
     
     
    Ref 2 Ref 3
    Love her as in childhood
Though feeble, old and grey.
For you’ll never miss a mother’s love
Till she’s buried beneath the clay.
     
     
    Ref 4 , Ref 5
    auch: Ref 6
    Anyone can see why I wanted your kiss’
It had to be and the reason is this:
Could it be true
Someone like you
Could love me, love me?

     
     
    Ref 7
    A group of young soldiers one night in a camp
Were talking of sweethearts they had.
All seemed so merry except one young lad,
And he was downhearted and sad.
Come and join us, said one of the boys,
Surely there’s someone for you.
But Ned shook his head and proudly he said,
I am in love with two: Each like a mother to me,
From neither of them shall I part.
For one is my mother, God bless her and love her,
The other is my sweetheart.
     
     
    Ref 8
    Deep in Canadian woods we met
From one bright island flown.
Great is the land we tread, but yet
Our hearts are with our own.
     
     
    Ref 9
    Up the narrow street he stepped
Smiling and proud and young,
About the hemp-rope on his neck
The golden ringlets clung,
There’s never a tear in the blue eyes,
Both glad and bright are they,
As Roddy McCorley goes to die
On the bridge of Toome today.

     
     
    Ref 10
    Clap hands, clap hands,
Till Daddy comes home,
With buns in his pocket
For Maisie alone.
Clap hands, clap hands,
Till Daddy comes home,
For Daddy has money
And Mammy has none.
     
     
    Ref 11
    In a shady nook one moonlit night
A leprechaun I spied.
With scarlet cap and coat of green
A cruiskeen by his side.
’Twas tick tock tick his hammer went
Upon a tiny shoe.
Oh, I laugh to think he was caught at last,
But the fairy was laughing, too.
     
     
    Ref 12 , Ref 13
    On Mountjoy one Monday morning
High upon the gallows tree
Kevin Barry gave his young life
For the cause of liberty.
Just a lad of eighteen summers
– Sure there’s no one can deny –
As he marched to death that morning
How he held his head on high.

     
     
    Ref 14
    Because he loved the motherland,
Because he loved the green
He goes to meet a martyr’s fate
With proud and joyous mien;
True to the last, oh! true to the last
He treads the upward way;
Young Roddy McCorley goes to die
On the bridge at Toome today.
     
     
    Ref 15
    When all around a vigil keep,
The West’s asleep, the West’s asleep!
Alas! and well may Erin weep
When Connaught lies in slumber deep.
There lake and plane smile fair and free,
’Mid rocks their guardian chivalry.
Sing, oh, let man learn liberty
From crashing wind and lashing sea.
     
     
    Ref 16
    Christmas is coming
And the goose ist getting fat,
Please put a penny
In the old man’s hat.
If you haven’t a penny
A ha’penny will do
And if you haven’t a ha’penny
God bless you.

May your mother have an accident
Abroad in the loo.
     
     
    Ref 17
    And if, when all a vigil keep,
The West’s asleep, the West’s asleep!
Alas! and may well Erin weep,
That Connaught lies in slumber deep,
But hark! a voice like thunder spake
The West’s awake! The West’s awake!
Sing, oh, hurrah, let England quake,
We’ll watch till death for Erin’s sake!
     
     
    Ref 18
    See who comes over the red-blossomed heather,
Their green banners kissing the pure mountain air,
Heads erect, eyes to front, stepping proudly together;
Sure freedom sits throned on each proud spirit there.
     
     
    Ref 19
    He came from the North so his words were few
But his voice was kind and his heart was true.
And I knew by his eyes that no guile had he.
So I married my man from the North Country.
     
    Oh, Garryowen may be more gay
Than this quiet man from beside Lough Neagh.
And I know that the sun shines softly down
On the river that runs through my native town.

     
    But there’s not – and I say it with joy and with pride ···
A better man in all Munster wide
And Limerick town has no happier hearth
Than mine has been with my man from the North.
     
    I wish that in Limerick they only knew
The kind kind neighbours I came unto.
Small hate or scorn would there ever be
Between the South and the North Country.
     
     
    Ref 20
    Oh, the nights of the Kerry dancing, oh, the ring of the piper’s tune,
    Oh, for one of those hours of gladness, gone, alas, like our youth too soon.
    When the boys began to gather in the glen of a summer night,
    And the Kerry piper’s tuning made us long with wild delight.
    Oh, to think of it, oh, to dream of it, fills my heart with tears.
    Oh, the nights of the Kerry dancing, oh, the ring of the piper’s tune,
    Oh, for one of those hours of