I Sing the Fields I sing the Farm
I Sing the House my Mother was Born
In Gortatagort, Colomane
A Green Jewel

Sewn in a Patchwork Quilt of Fields
Between the Mountain and the River
In this Time now, and in Another
Where I ran Free with my Brothers

Through the Long Meadow, the Cnocán Rua,
The Fort Field, the Páirc na Claise,
The New House Field, the Gallán Field,
The Clover Field, the Rushy Field

Where the Red Fuschia weeps in the Hen’s Garden
And the Angels bleed over Bantry Bay

I see the House I see the Yard
I see the Stall I see the Stable
I see the Haggard and the Hen’s garden
I see the Hill I see the Well

I Sing the Spring and the Well water
The Flat field, the Hilly field
The South Ray Grass, the North Ray Grass
The Brake, and the Páircín na hEornan

Where the red fuschia weeps in the Hen’s Garden
And where God goes to sleep in the Hills and Valleys
And the Moon rises over the Haggard
And Peace descends on Gortatagort
And the Angels bleed over Bantry Bay

Ah saddle up the old Gray Mare
Tim Big Danny, and Jackie Timmy
Are going to ride across the Mountains to Puck Fair

I Sing the Fields I sing the Farm
I Sing the House my Mother was Born
In Gortatagort, Colomane

A GREEN JEWEL.

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