The gray crow cawing on the birch tree at the dawning of the day
Where the Finnow through the green and rushy fields it slowly winds it's way
Towards Drishane to join with the Blackwater and into a bigger river grow
The river flows forever though the people come and go.
The old fields by the Finnow have inspired the bards to rhyme
They were old before the arrival of the Fir Bolg and that's going back in time
The people they grow old and die and are never seen again
And their children and their children too must go but the land ever remain.
The old fields by the Finnow I have not seen for years
Though for my fading memories I don't feel moved to tears
The boys and girls I went to school with like me now showing their years in gray
Time does not wait for anyone it ticks and ticks away.
The old fields by the Finnow for me a memory in decay
The people like the Seasons come and go but the fields and rivers stay
And Nature who has existed for millions of years before the birth of man
Is destined to live forever she does not have a time span.
Francis Duggan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-old-fields-by-the-finnow/
