I, also, scream Ireland
I am the greener child.
I am banished out to pasture
For when the wolves come,
I do chuckle,
And fill my stomach,
And bloom mountainous.
Another day,
I’ll be welcome indoors.
When the wolves come.
They’ll not risk
Speaking to me,
“graze in the pasture,”
anytime.
Anyhow,
They’ll gaze upon my mountains
And be envious –
I, also, am Ireland.
