The Same For

The same for the refugee as for the voluntary migrant if they tell you it would surely be a lie
That they never do think of their first homeland and once never wish to go back home to die
Believe me for i too am a migrant one who has mixed with migrants of every race
And many of them are quite honest with their feelings when they say they often does think of their first homeplace

I have known many migrant men and women long past their prime and well advanced in years
Even at the very mention of their homeland they seem to strugle to hold back the tears
That yearn to flow for far off towns and places and family and friends of for them what used to be
In this respect it is the same for the voluntary migrant as it is for the aging refugee

Sometimes i envy those content in their surroundings who never venture far from their homeplace
The yearn to wander never came upon them happy to live and grow old where their's is a known face
The refugees are fleeing from war and famine the voluntary migrants are of the adventurous kind
But all of them does share one thing in common on that thoughts of home are often in their mind

I am a fellow from another Country from where i now live in distance far away
But i must admit at times to feel nostalgic in fancy i see old Clara Mountain every day
Or of having a pint with friends in Duhallow in one of the pubs in the town of Millstreet
And in Claraghatlea feel content in my first home walking in the fields where the waterways do meet.