Tis but me spiked-up hair, y’seen, 
Doused with a lot o’spray on green! 
“Where did you get that hat!?” they say, 
Folks grind on me each passing day.

“Keep it off, tis not funny!” they cry— 
Sorry, but it’s staying on, oh my! 
Tis the hat my father never wore, 
On St. Paddy’s day, you'd swore.

I haven’t me a hat, let alone respect; 
So I’ll bug off with me head erect. 
And just...

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The Irish is in Celtic script and the English is in Old English text.

Some of my earliest and abiding memories are of the Irish accents and Irish names of pupils and teachers at school and at church.

Having learned French and Spanish on retirement, a great excuse for backpacking holidays, I gained an interest in language and in how it works.

Th...

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If ever you want to wind up an Irishman like me, dress up in full riding gear and refer to yourself and you chums as "gentry". The following poem, while not Shakespeare, retells a story from Tyrellspass in Westmeath beside me where one poor tourist made the mistake...

Can you tell me, sir, a man passing did say
To a citizen of Ireland at his gate one day
When the ...

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No Warning

I hung up me guns;

But for you, you cunt

I’ll take ‘em down

Don’t push me

I’m at the end of my tether

I love peace, love, freedom

You love neither.

I’ll give you a bit o’ Irish

‘Cause we know how to war

You might know aggression, oppression

But we’ve whipped that before…

I hung up me guns;

But for you, you cunt

I’ll take ‘em down

Don’t push me…

I lov...

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