We 're aich a descindint <br />Av the great an resplindint <br />The bowld, indepindint, <br /> <br />Home Ruler Boroo. <br />We thought we hed thoighs <br />An arms av such soize <br />As wud dazzle yer oyes, <br /> <br />An astonish yez, too. <br /> <br />But the very first bound <br />We med on the ground, I <br />Begorra! we found <br /> <br />That mistaken we wer! <br />To think that ye 'd thrate us, <br />An faist us and fate us ; <br />Thin turn round and bate us ! <br /> <br />It 's haythens ye are ! <br />To think that a lout <br />Who never dhrank stout. <br />An knew nothing about <br /> <br />The rale ould potheen, <br />Shud hev legs loike a damon, <br />An arms loike a dhrayman, <br />An can jump loike a sayman <br /> <br />Bates all Oi've seen ! <br /> <br /> <br />But a song Oi will throwl, <br />If you 'll fill up the bowl <br />For Oi'm sick, be me sowl ! <br /> <br />An Oi 'm spacheless, agra ; <br />Oi wish Oi cud take <br />Me floight an awake <br />Where there 's divil a shnake <br /> <br />In Erin Go Bragh.<br /><br />Robert Kirkland Kernighan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-irishmen-s-lament/
