爱尔兰小母亲你可曾见过那座整洁的茅屋，在那凌乱、尘土飞扬的街道上，玫瑰在门边摇曳香炉?你听到过欢快的说话声和健壮的年轻人在地板上嬉戏的脚步声吗?你想知道为什么电线会来唱它最甜美的歌吗?你是不是被家的微妙魅力迷住了?你有没有想过，为什么它在你走过的时候一直萦绕在你心头?那儿有个爱尔兰小妈妈;这是所有。当你看到孩子们在学校里辛苦地学习功课时，你是否从其他女孩中挑出了一个可爱的女孩，她在凳子上笑着，她的头发卷曲成一簇，穿着朴素的星期一早晨整洁的衣服?你有没有注意到，当一个身心健康的男孩笔直地站在那里，准备好要讲故事的时候，他的男子汉气概?你是否陶醉在新鲜的空气中，感到一阵健康的喜悦?那儿还有一个爱尔兰小妈妈。有一位爱尔兰小母亲，孤独地守夜在移民的小屋里，很少有陌生人来，在自制的摇篮旁，看着又一个澳大利亚人睡在那里，微风在树床上低语着奇怪的事情，在那里，移民们勇敢地战斗，被打倒了，又站了起来，勇敢的丛林妻子们分担着辛劳和沉默，在那里，国家在辉煌的人们心中建设着——有一位爱尔兰小母亲永远在那里。 There's a Little Irish Mother--and her head is bowed and gray, And she's lonesome when the evening shadows fall; Near the fire she "do be thinkin'," all the "childer' are away, And their silent pictures watch her from the wall. For the world has claimed them from her; they are men and women now, In their thinning hair the tell-tale silver gleams; But she runs her fingers, dozing, o'er a tousled baby brow-- It is "little Con" or "Bridgie" in her dreams. There's a Little Irish Mother sleeping softly now at last Where the tangled grass is creeping all around; And the shades of unsung heroes troop about her from the past While the moonlight scatters diamonds on the mound. And a good Australian's toiling in the world of busy men Where the strife and sordid grinding cramp and kill; But his eyes are sometimes misted, and his heart grows brave again-- She's the Little Irish Mother to him still. When at last the books are balanced in the settling-up to be, And our idols on the rubbish-heap are hurled, Then the Judge shall call to honour--not the "stars," it seems to me, Who have posed behind the footlights of the world; But the king shall doff his purple, and the queen lay by her crown, And the great ones of the earth shall stand aside While a Little Irish Mother in her tattered, faded gown Shall receive the crown too long to her denied. John O'Brien