Tabhair póg dom, táim Éireannach!
Happy St. Paddy's Day, everyone! When I was a kid I watched "Darby O'Gille and the Little People" every year, so I'm hoping I can find it on TV somewhere when I get home from work.
A couple of my favorite Irish sayings & proverbs:
May you always have work for your hands to do.
May your pockets hold always a coin or two.
May the sun shine bright on your windowpane.
May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
May the hand of a friend always be near you.
And may God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you
In life, there's only two things to worry about:
Either you are healthy or you are sick
If you're healthy there's nothing to worry about
If you're sick, there's only two things to worry about:
Either you will get better or you will get worse
If you get better there's nothing to worry about
If you get worse there's only two things to worry about
Either you will live or you will die
If you live there's nothing to worry about
If you die there's only two things to worry about:
Either you will go to Heaven or you will go to Hell
If you go to Heaven there's nothing to worry about
If you go to Hell, you'll be so busy shaking hands with old friends you won't have time to worry
May you live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live
May those who love us, love us.
And for those who don't love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if he can not turn their hearts,
May he turn their ankles,
So we may know them by their limping.
May the enemies of Ireland never eat bread nor drink whiskey, but be afflicted with itching without the benefit of scratching
May your home always be too small to hold all your friends
A toast to your coffin.
May it be made of 100 year old oak.
And may we plant the tree together, tomorrow.
May God bring good health to your enemies' enemies
May you never forget what is worth remembering,
Or remember what is best forgotten
May you get all your wishes but one, so you always have something to strive for
May the roads rise to meet you.
May the wind be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
The rain fall soft upon your fields
And, until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand
Irish Diplomacy is the ability to tell a man to go to hell so that he looks forward to making the trip
An Irishman has an abiding sense of tragedy which sustains him through temporary periods of joy
The work praises the man
"The Way We Tell a Story" by Pat McCarty:
Says I to him, I says, says I,
Says I to him, I says,
The thing, says I, I says to him,
Is just, says I, this ways.
I hev', says I, a gret respeck
For you and for your breed,
And onything I could, I says,
I'd do, I wud indeed.
I don't know any man, I says,
I'd do it for, says I,
As fast, I says, as for yoursel',
That's tellin' ye no lie.
There's nought, says I, I wudn't do
To plase your feyther's son,
But this, I says, ye see, says I,
I says, it can't be done.
(If anyone knows who the author of this poem is, please let me know):
The utterly impractical, never predictable,
Sometimes irascible, quite inexplicable, Irish.
Strange blend of shyness,pride and conceit,
And stubborn refusal to bow in defeat.
He's spoiling and ready to argue and fight,
Yet the smile of a child fills his soul with delight.
His eyes are the quickest to well up with tears,
Yet his strength is the strongest to banish your fears.
His hate is as fierce as his devotion is grand,
And there is no middle ground on which he will stand.
He's wild and he's gentle, he's good and he's bad.
He's proud and he's humble, he's happy and sad.
He's in love with the ocean, the earth and the skies,
He's enamoured with beauty wherever it lies.
He's victor and victim, a star and a clod,
But mostly he's Irish - in love with his God.
A couple of my favorite Irish sayings & proverbs:
May you always have work for your hands to do.
May your pockets hold always a coin or two.
May the sun shine bright on your windowpane.
May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain.
May the hand of a friend always be near you.
And may God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you
In life, there's only two things to worry about:
Either you are healthy or you are sick
If you're healthy there's nothing to worry about
If you're sick, there's only two things to worry about:
Either you will get better or you will get worse
If you get better there's nothing to worry about
If you get worse there's only two things to worry about
Either you will live or you will die
If you live there's nothing to worry about
If you die there's only two things to worry about:
Either you will go to Heaven or you will go to Hell
If you go to Heaven there's nothing to worry about
If you go to Hell, you'll be so busy shaking hands with old friends you won't have time to worry
May you live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live
May those who love us, love us.
And for those who don't love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if he can not turn their hearts,
May he turn their ankles,
So we may know them by their limping.
May the enemies of Ireland never eat bread nor drink whiskey, but be afflicted with itching without the benefit of scratching
May your home always be too small to hold all your friends
A toast to your coffin.
May it be made of 100 year old oak.
And may we plant the tree together, tomorrow.
May God bring good health to your enemies' enemies
May you never forget what is worth remembering,
Or remember what is best forgotten
May you get all your wishes but one, so you always have something to strive for
May the roads rise to meet you.
May the wind be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
The rain fall soft upon your fields
And, until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand
Irish Diplomacy is the ability to tell a man to go to hell so that he looks forward to making the trip
An Irishman has an abiding sense of tragedy which sustains him through temporary periods of joy
The work praises the man
"The Way We Tell a Story" by Pat McCarty:
Says I to him, I says, says I,
Says I to him, I says,
The thing, says I, I says to him,
Is just, says I, this ways.
I hev', says I, a gret respeck
For you and for your breed,
And onything I could, I says,
I'd do, I wud indeed.
I don't know any man, I says,
I'd do it for, says I,
As fast, I says, as for yoursel',
That's tellin' ye no lie.
There's nought, says I, I wudn't do
To plase your feyther's son,
But this, I says, ye see, says I,
I says, it can't be done.
(If anyone knows who the author of this poem is, please let me know):
The utterly impractical, never predictable,
Sometimes irascible, quite inexplicable, Irish.
Strange blend of shyness,pride and conceit,
And stubborn refusal to bow in defeat.
He's spoiling and ready to argue and fight,
Yet the smile of a child fills his soul with delight.
His eyes are the quickest to well up with tears,
Yet his strength is the strongest to banish your fears.
His hate is as fierce as his devotion is grand,
And there is no middle ground on which he will stand.
He's wild and he's gentle, he's good and he's bad.
He's proud and he's humble, he's happy and sad.
He's in love with the ocean, the earth and the skies,
He's enamoured with beauty wherever it lies.
He's victor and victim, a star and a clod,
But mostly he's Irish - in love with his God.