Imleabhar: CBÉ 0220 (Cuid 1)

Ar an leathanach seo

1. Song - The Hermit of Coolroe (ar lean)

   

   Roinn Roinn Postáil

   (ar lean ón leathanach roimhe)

   and the escort outside & have nothing to fear
   and now being deserted by little and big,
   There's no one to chat to I'll talk to my wig,
   "Dear Wig" he began "I will tell you my woes"
   "And the heartships and troubles I'm getting from those
   Who according to any just landowners views
   Should be kneeling before me and licking my shoes,
   Should salute and salaam as I drive in my gig."
   "Upon me faith I'm afraid that's all gone" said the wig
   "These rascals had holdings at very fair rent
   There fathers before them were always content
   To live on potatoes alone through the year
   and thus keep their farms from being in arear.
   But forsooth these damn gluttons must now kill their pig."
   "And have mate every Sunday I hear" said the wig.
   "To make my Kalo short all the trouble began
   When they brought in the swindle they christened the Plaw
   It was cunningly fashion to plunder and rob,
   And a fellow named James was boss of the job
   An obstinate, stupid and thick-headed pig,"
   "There were ? of you in it I doubt" said the "Wig"
   "On last Sunday by bamblin I happened to pass
   Inside a tall fence an infernal old ass

   (leanann ar an chéad leathanach eile)

   

   Tras-scríofa ag duine dár meitheal tras-scríbhneoirí deonacha.

   Stair Athraigh

   Dáta

   15 Meitheamh 1936

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   • Tomás de Buitléir