And though songbirds in the high woods are singing
The mountain winds are chilly when they blow.
And though it’s mid Spring and grass growth is vibrant
And new leaves on deciduous branches grow
The stream it’s source at foot of Mushera mountain
Swelled by the heavy rains of April flow
Down through the high glen through the gorse and bracken
Down though the high fields by the green hedgerow
It rushes down to join the Aubane river
That journey through the flat green fields below.
In the hedgerow the hen bullfinch is building
Her cup shaped nest of grass and lichen lined with hair
On nearby branch her handsome mate is piping
His creaky territorial low pitched air.
The black faced lambs in bare fields by the mountain
Enjoy their youth and prance and run and play
Their mothers have survived the long cold winter
And grass will be more plentiful in May.
Were I a bard I’d sing a song for Mushera
The hill where Muskerry and Duhallow meet
The roads wind up and down along the mountains
From Rylane all the way into Millstreet.
I left the mountains but the mountains followed
And I see the hill of Mushera every day
And I hear the redpoll and the chaffinch piping
In the high woods thousands of miles away.
Mid April in the high country by Mushera
And wildflowers show their beauty to the Spring
And birds are nesting in the woods and hedgerows
And skylark high above the bracken sing.