Scoil: Gort Leitreach (uimhir rolla 15960)

Ar an leathanach seo

1. The Policeman

   

   Roinn Roinn Postáil

   If you have patience for a while
   I'll let you know I'm reconciled
   I will relate I do protest.
   And straight away now for to confess.
   I do not mean to detain you long
   I'm going to speak of a policeman
   It's with an open heart and mind.
   To speak precise I am inclined.
   The stuff he's made of is the worst
   And by Saint Patrick hes been cursed
   They say he is uncircumcised.
   His features cannot be equalized.
   His jaws they are of a purple blue.
   And round his eyes a yellow hue
   His nostrils they are large enough
   For to contain a box of snuff.
   His mouth indeed so like a snare
   That would be set for catching hares
   It's round his lips there is a scum
   That from his eyes and nose does run
   His teeth they are of a monstrous shape
   They're nearly like the tangs of grapes
   His tongue it is an awful size.
   And like a trout he snaps at flies.
   His scabby head I almost forgot
   His ears with glue they have been stopped

   (leanann ar an chéad leathanach eile)

   

   Tras-scríofa ag duine dár meitheal tras-scríbhneoirí deonacha.

   Stair Athraigh

   Teanga

   Béarla

   Bailitheoir

   Higgins

   Gairm bheatha

   Poet (Léirítear teidil na ngairmeacha i mBailiúchán na Scol sa bhunteanga inar cláraíodh iad)

   Seoladh

   Cluain Cuas, Co. Liatroma

   Faisnéiseoir

   Patrick Bohan

   Inscne

   Fireann