Those Old Fields I Loved

I think of them at least once a day
Those old fields i loved from here far away
The male chaffinch is singing in my memory
In the prime of the Spring on a leafy birch tree

Contented cattle chewing their cuds on nutritious young grass lay
In those old fields i loved in the prime of the May
And the dark barn swallows chirping as they fly
In pursuit of flying insects across the gray sky

I only have memories of the beauty i have known of and seen
Like the bluebells in bloom on the ditch of the bohreen
And the song of the dark brown white breasted dipper in fancy i do hear
The stream he sings in to my thoughts ever near

The old fields i loved many of them had their own given name
In my memories of them they look the same
As when i walked on them a long time ago
Long before time it did become my foe

Of those old fields i loved fond memories i retain
And in my flights of fancy i walk on them again
But the now is all that does matter as the wise one does say
And at midnight tonight the past will be today.