My father loved a song
And he could sing one
And as a child I sat upon his knee
And on this quiet Paddy’s Day
I sense I hear him still
Singing in his pleasant voice
‘That little old mud cabin on the hill’
A song of emigration
It describes the foreign shore
Where Irish people headed
Their home they’d see no more
My father’s father one such man
Who left for good or ill
Leaving his home in Slinaun
A little old mud cabin on a hill
My father knew what hard times were
He grew up in poverty
Worked the mine and soldiered far away
His sentiment was healthy
No maudlin tone from him
He’d make the best of what he had
That sentiment will stay
And one line I remember well
Upon my father’s knee
As he sang the song that comes into my mind
The sorry state of Ireland
Too long it was unkind
‘In Paddy’s land but poverty you’ll find’
Brian Fahy
17 March 2022
+ On YouTube you can find a recording of this song by Denis Murray and Sean Dunphy, recorded at the Galtymore in Cricklewood in 2001.
Erris Poetry 