Here you will find the Poem A Rann Of Exile of poet Padraic Colum
NOR right, nor left, nor any road I see a comrade face, Nor word to lift the heart in me I hear in any place; They leave me, who pass by me, to my loneliness and care, Without a house to draw my step nor a fire that I might share! Ochone, before our people knew the scatt'ring of the dearth, Before they saw potatoes rot and melt black in the earth, I might have stood in Connacht, on the top of Cruchmaelinn, And all around me I would see the hundreds of my kin.
