Kilkelly, Ireland Marc Gunn

Kilkelly, Ireland, eighteen and sixty, my dear and loving son John
Your good friend and schoolmaster Pat McNamara so good as to write these words down
Your brothers have all gone to find work in England, the house is all empty and sad
The crop of potatoes is sorely infected, a third to a half of them bad
Your sister Bridget and Patrick O’Donnell are going to be married in June
Your mother says not to work on the railroad and be sure to come on home soon

Kilkelly, Ireland, eighteen and seventy, my dear and loving son John
Hello to your missus and to your 4 children. May thеy grow healthy and strong
Michael has got in a wee bit of trouble, I guеss that he never will learn
Because of the dampness there’s no turf to speak of and now we have nothing to burn
Bridget is happy, you named a child for her and now she’s got six of her own
You say you found work, but you don’t say what kind or when you will be coming home

Kilkelly, Ireland, eighteen and eighty, dear Michael and John, my sons
I’m sorry to give you the very sad news that your dear old mother has gone
We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly, your brothers and Bridget were there
You don’t have to worry, she died very quickly. Remember her in your prayers
And it’s so good to hear that Michael’s returning, with money he’s sure to buy land
For the crop has been poor and the people are selling as fast as they can

Kilkelly, Ireland, eighteen and ninety, my dear and loving son John
I suppose that I must be close on eighty, it’s thirty years since you’re gone
Because of all of the money you sent me, I’m still living out on my own
Michael has built himself a fine house and Bridget’s daughters have grown
Thank you for sending your family pictures. They’re lovely young women and men
You say that you might even come for a visit, what joy to see you again