I stumbled across this poem recently and thought it worth sharing, from George Bernard Shaw. Not too long back, we posted a link to a fascinating Irishmans Diary on the story of the plaque on Synge Street marking the birthplace of Shaw. While a Dubliner of course, upon leaving Dublin it is fair to say Shaw had little plan to return. “We’re a fair race” Shaw remarked, “we never speak well of each other.”
At last I went to Ireland
‘Twas raining cats and dogs:I found no music in the glens,
Nor purple in the bogs.And as for angels’ laughter in
The smelly Liffey’s tide-Well, my Irish daddy said it,
But the dear old humbug lied.
I’m sure there must be a post Celtic Tiger version of that verse.
[BTW: the link has an extra http etc in it and doesn’t work till it’s removed.]
Nollaig Shona.
Bah Humbug George.
You’ll hear the angels’ laughter if you listen carefully enough.
I think GB saw through the myth of “romantic” Ireland long before a lot of other people did.
A few further thoughts on GBS (from 2006):
http://photopol.blogspot.com/2006/07/gbs-150.html
My father used to recite this poem when we were children. Now I’m in Dublin I know what he meant. It is raining cats and dogs.. Kerry LJ