No, men and women of the Irish race, we shall not fight for England. We shall fight for the destruction of the British Empire and the construction of an Irish republic.
quote by James Larkin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
My Fight For Irish Freedom
'My fight for Irish freedom' the autobiography of Dan Breen
But perhaps he should have called his book 'When young blood stained the green'
For human blood for freedom too huge a price to pay
And liberty or freedom define it anyway.
The freedom of expression whatever that might be
To speak our minds on certain things we are not truly free
Look at poor Salman Rushdie his book you may have read
For his satanic verses some people want him dead.
From the point I am about to make you may think I tend to stray
And what has Rushdie got to do with Irish freedom you might say
But for freedom of expression there has been a World-wide
fight
And yet fear is a deterrent to a basic human right.
The fight for Irish freedom whatever that might mean
For there is more to freedom than the 'wearing of the green'
In Ireland like all Nations there is inequality
Of prejudice and class distinction the World is yet not free.
The ill fated Easter Rising in Dublin of the year nineteen sixteen
And my fight for Irish freedom the story of Dan Breen
Is living on in history yet do we understand
That there is more to freedom than owning a piece of land.
poem by Francis Duggan
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If You're Lucky Enough To Be Irish
If you're lucky enough to be Irish
Then you're lucky enough they say.
I count my Irish blessings,
As I breathe the air each day.
When I'm somewhere o'er the water
Not walking Erin's shore,
I know my resting place will be
In Ireland for evermore.
I have Irish songs on my lips,
And Irish blood in my veins,
So I tell you I'm lucky to be Irish,
And I'll keep telling you over again.
I'm lucky enough to be Irish.
My children who walk by my side,
Will I hope, too feel the calling,
And someday walk Erin's fields wide.
poem by Rosi Caswell
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The Luck Of The Irish
Ok, one, two, three, one two, three
If you had the luck of the irish,
You'd be sorry and wish you were dead.
You should have the luck of the irish,
And you'd wish you was english instead.
A thousand years of torture and hunger,
Drove the people away from their land.
A land full of beauty and wonder
Was raped by the british brigands!
Goddamned!
Goddamned!
If you could keep voices like flowers,
There's be shamrock all over the world.
If you could drink dreams like irish streams,
Then the world would be as high as the mountain of morn.
In the 'pool they told us the story
How the english divided the land.
Of the pain and the death and the glory
And the poets of auld eireland.
If we could make chains with the morning dew,
The world would be like galway bay.
Let's walk over rainbows like leprechauns,
The world would be one big blarney stone.
Why the hell are the english there anyway?
As they kill with god on their side!
Blame it all on the kids and the i.r.a.
As the bastards commit genocide!
Aye! aye!
Genocide!
Okay!
You should have the luck of the irish,
You'd be sorry and wish you were dead.
You should have the luck of the irish,
And you'd wish you was english instead.
One more time!
You should have the luck of the irish,
You'd be sorry and wish you were dead.
You should have the luck of the irish,
And you'd wish you was english instead,
Hey, yes, you'd wish you were english instead.
- "thank you!
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A War Hero's Lament
Don't fight for England anymore,
Don't fight for the chaps at the corner store,
Just go back home and close the door
'Cos England isn't England anymore.
Don't boast you're British, they'll deplore
Your ancestry and what is more
They'll kick you out, show you the door
'Cos England isn't England anymore.
They'll tell you you are just like them,
They'll laugh at you and then condemn
Your Anglo-Saxon attitude
And tell you it is very crude.
Don't blame them, they don't understand
Devotion to a fatherland:
They're here to make the very most
Of everything that you have lost.
(The cunning reader may detect
I'm not 'politically correct',
Well that is true - that's why I choose
To sing these PATRIOTIC blues! !)
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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One Irish Rover
Tell me the story now
Now that its over
Wrap it in glory
For one irish rover
Tell me you wiser now
Tell me you older
Wrap it in glory
For one irish rover
Bridge:
I can tell by the light in your eye
That youre so far away
Like a ship out on the sea
Without a sail, youve gone astray
Tell me the facts real straight
Dont make me over
Make it come out alright
And wrap it in glory
For one irish rover
For one irish rover
One irish rover
One irish rover
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fight
Sometimes there's nothing to feel
Sometimes there's nothing to hold
Sometimes there's no time to run away
Sometimes you just feel so old
The times it hurts when you cry
The times it hurts just to breathe
And then it all seems like there's no-one left
And all you want is to sleep
Fight fight fight
Just push it away
Fight fight fight
Just push until it breaks
Fight fight fight
Don't cry at the pain
Fight fight fight
Or watch yourself burn again
Fight fight fight
Don't howl like a dog
Fight fight
Just fill up the sky
Fight fight fight
Fight til you drop
Fight fight fight
And never never
Never stop
Fight fight fight
Fight fight fight
So when the hurting starts
And when the nightmares begin
Remember you can fill up the sky
You don't have to give in
You don't have to give in
Never give in
Never give in
Never give in
song performed by by Cure
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Irish Soldier
The Irish soldier, cast for fight,
Stood to his arms at dead of night,
Watching the east, until its ray
To the battle--field should show his way;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though they call you slave,
And though you but help a bandit hand
Uncheck'd to kill in your native land.
The soldier thought on his chance of doom--
How the trampled sod might be his tomb--
How, in evening's dusk, his sightless stare
To the small pale stars might upward glare;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though you think of the grave--
Though it yawn so near you, black and chill,
Honor and courage man you still.
And o'er his solemn brow he made
The Christian sign, and humbly said--
``Your prayers, good saints, if I should fall;
And for mercy, O Lord, on you I call!''--
Irish soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight, although you crave
The prayers of the saints your own to aid,
And the sign of the cross on your brow have made.
The morning broke--the bugle blew--
The voice of command the soldier knew,
And stern and straight in the van he stood,
And shouting, he rush'd to the work of blood;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
Thousands lay round you, crimson'd and cold--
But over their bodies you still fought on,
Till down you sank as the day was won.
And the Irish soldier now hath come,
Worn, and wounded, and crippled, home,
The hated, and slander'd, and scorn'd of those
Who safely slept while he faced their foes;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
In your native land you now are told
'Twas traitor--blood on that field you lost,
For you call'd on the saints, and your brow you cross'd!
poem by John Banim
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When the Irish Flag Went By
’Twas Eight-Hour Day, and proudly
Old Labour led the way;
The drums were bearing loudly,
The crowded streets were gay;
But something touched my heart like pain,
I could not check the sigh
That rose within my bosom when
The Irish Flag went by.
Bright flags were raised about it
And one of them my own:
And patriots trod beneath it—
But it seemed all alone.
I thought of ruined Ireland
While crystals from the sky
Fell soft like tears by angels shed,
As the Irish Flag went by.
I love the dark green standard
As Irish patriots do;
It waves above the rebels,
And I’m a rebel too,
I thought of Ireland’s darkest years,
Her griefs that follow fast;
For drooping as ’twere drenched with tears
The Irish Flag went past.
And though ’twas not in Erin
That my forefathers trod;
And though my wandering footsteps
Ne’er pressed the “dear old sod”,
I felt the wrongs the Irish feel
Beneath the northern sky.
And felt the rebel in my heart
When the Irish Flag went by.
I tell you, men of England,
Who rule the land by might;
I tell you, Irish traitors
Who sell the sons of light,
The tyranny shall fail at last,
That changeful days are nigh;
And you shall dip your red flag yet,
When the Irish Flag goes by.
poem by Henry Lawson
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Give Ireland Back To The Irish
Give ireland back to the irish
Dont make them have to take it away
Give ireland back to the irish
Make ireland irish today
Great britian you are tremendous
And nobody knows like me
But really what are you doin
In the land across the sea
Tell me how would you like it
If on your way to work
You were stopped by irish soliders
Would you lie down do nothing
Would you give in, or go berserk
Give ireland back to the irish
Dont make them have to take it away
Give ireland back to the irish
Make ireland irish today
Great britian and all the people
Say that all people must be free
Meanwhile back in ireland
Theres a man who looks like me
And he dreams of God and country
And hes feeling really bad
And hes sitting in a prison
Should he lie down do nothing
Should give in or go mad
Give ireland back to the irish
Dont make them have to take it away
Give ireland back to the irish
Make ireland irish today
Give ireland back to the irish
Dont make them have to take it away
Give ireland back to the irish
Make ireland irish today
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fight For Right***********9/9/79
as sure as there is a rising sun
and a descending night.
some day little black children and
little white children will no longer fight.
the irish and the british will
someday see eye to eye
for it is irelands dream
and they must continue to try and try.
dreams are made by small men and women
with a perserverance that won't give up
and if their dreams were to shatter
someone else will pick up the slack.
a man once said 'he dreamt of a machine that
would one day fly'
well! that dream has come true
but he's not around to try.
so don't even give up on your dreams
for a lot of them become realities.
we may not get the things we want
and we may struggle all our lives
and even if we do fail
our children will contain the light.
poem by Louis Rams
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My Irish Granny
A Tribute To My Irish Granny
By Marie Hurst on 17 June 2011
land of my grt grt grt grandmother beckon to me
Lure me home over the Irish sea
There with eyes of pure emerald green
My granny once walked, my Irish queen
Mary I never knew you, I wish I had
You died long before for that am sad
All I know is you where my granny
my Irish queen.
from County Derry, Where I have never been
Let the Irish music play so sweet
let the shamrocks be crushed not by my feet
For I am the outsider, born in the UK
yet I would love to be Irish Just for a day
Mary Glendenning born in 1836 I love you
I have never seen your home land
But May God Bless You
poem by Marie Causey
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Radio Station: Chico, Irish Tuesday
there is
a place
in chicago,
hidden
and open
only
to the irish
lonely
only rare lonely irish girls.
hey iris,
hello irish,
little natty
nato
bateau
couteau
coto
costo
boulo
bella bellissi si mo
deli isso mo
es ki mo who mo mo mo (s)
so lady
why you are a lady
if you are
only
lonely
and left alone.
so irish
lady
why you are irish
who hates the brit- esh and not the brite-esh
who bit itches and iches
behind the walls.
And
lady,
please my lady,
why are you
staying alone if you
are in love with another
lovely baby
who always
makes you feel
unique
like an
ancient boutique
inside
the history
museum.
poem by Atef Ayadi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Irish Politics And Politicians
Politics in the Republic of Ireland with any joy I can't recall
Nepotism rife in the ranks of the three major parties Labour, Fine Gael and Fianna Fail
Jobs for their kin and their mates only Irish Politicians in their ways so small
In Politics since my time in Ireland suppose things would not have changed much at all
I was never a member of any Irish Political Party to me they seemed a very flawed lot
The way they conducted their business I certainly haven't forgot
Any one party not cleaner than the other honest politicians anywhere hard to be found
I recall amongst Irish Politicians that nepotism did abound
They grew old and retired on their big pensions they took care of themselves and their own
Honesty and fairness with them not a high priority the most of them for such not known
When they spoke of doing good for the Country they did not mean what they did say
They only helped their families, friends and relations respect to them I could not pay
There were a few honourable Irish Politicians just a few that I can recall
But honesty does not survive well amongst Politicians they are a flawed lot overall.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Luck Of The Irish
If you had the luck of the irish
Youd be sorry and wish you were dead
You should have the luck of the irish
And youd wish you was english instead!
A thousand years of torture and hunger
Drove the people away from their land
A land full of beauty and wonder
Was raped by the british brigands! goddamn! goddamn!
If you could keep voices like flowers
Thered be shamrock all over the world
If you could drink dreams like irish streams
Then the world would be high as the mountain of morn
In the pool they told us the story
How the english divided the land
Of the pain, the death and the glory
And the poets of auld eireland
If we could make chains with the morning dew
The world would be like galway bay
Lets walk over rainbows like leprechauns
The world would be one big blarney stone
Why the hell are the english there anyway?
As they kill with God on their side
Blame it all on the kids the ira
As the bastards commit genocide! aye! aye! genocide!
If you had the luck of the irish
Youd be sorry and wish you was dead
You should have the luck of the irish
And youd wish you was english instead!
Yes youd wish you was english instead!
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Put a coward to his metal an' he'll fight the de'il.
The end of a feast is better than the beginning of a fight.
I Will Help and Fight
As we are the Army of the Lord, so shall we fight,
I will help and fight and bring as many as we can to see the light.
As women in the street go and weep,
I will help and fight to give them a place to sleep.
And as the little children go hungry and cold,
I will help and fight to give them a chance with any problem that may unfold.
While that homeless drunkard is left out on the street,
I will help and fight for them until they make Satan want to retreat.
As there are men and women that go to prison in and out and back to in and out.
I will help and fight to give them a chance to win this bout.
.
poem by Frank Pulver
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Irish
St. Patrick's day is with us,
The day when all that's seen
From right and left
And everywhere is green, green, green.
I'll wear an Irish shamrock
In my coat the glad day through,
For my mother and Grandma are Irish,
And I am half way Irish, too!
poem by Autumn Howard
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