Take me home to Carlow. (The emigrant’s dream)

Take me home to Carlow.

Carlow by the sea.

Let me run through the sand on Bagnelstown strand,

Watch trawlers tie up on the quay.

Let me see dolphins leaping

With grace an majesty.

Oh. I’ll scrimp and I’ll save ‘til I surf every wave

In Carlow by the sea.

When I was a boy, my particular joy,

Was to sit at my Grandfather’s knee.

And to hear his great tales of the Celts and the Gaels

In the land where I wanted to be.

He told me how the high kings of Ireland,

In a time before Tara-na Rí.

After centuries of roamin’, made their permanent home in

Carlow by the sea.

Through the years she’s played host to the famous

As they sailed to and fro’ on their quest,

Popes, Kings and Queens, Nostradamus.

Young Columbus stopped by, going west.

For Napoleon and Josephine’s visit,

They built a Chalet de neccessite.

It’s still there, painted violet, it’s

The old ladies toilet,

In Carlow by the sea.

The British have their monarchy,

The Yanks their Empire State.

The Italians their leaning tower

And the Germans their Brandenburg Gate.

The French have their Louvre Museum,

(But that’s all “ooh la-la” to me.)

Because these can’t compare with a treasure more rare,

My Carlow by the sea.

So I’m boarding the plane to-morrow

To live out my dearest of dreams.

I’ve said my farewells to Broadway,

To Manhattan and to Queens.

I’ve been sixty five years waiting

And I can’t believe I’ll soon be,

On that dear sacred turf, with my toes in the surf,

In Carlow by the sea.

by Paddy Ganly

If you would like to hear Paddy read his poem please play the link below: