Откровения Поздравляю русскоязычного Ирландца, товарища Гобшита с днем святого Патрика

спасибо бро.Я охуенно (беспезды и картинок) тронут.You are dead sound, me will be cabbage today, cheers mate!!!

конешно же ходят, и я кильт имею.

The night was dark, the battle ended,

The moon shown down O'Connell street,

I stood alone where our brave men perished,

They have gone their God to meet.

My only son was shot in Dublin,

Fighting for his country bold,

He fought for Ireland and for Ireland only,

The harp and shamrock, green white and gold.

The first I met, was a grey haired father,

Searching for his only son,

I said old man, so there's no use searching,

Your only son to heaven has gone.

My God he cried, I am broken hearted,

My God he cried, going on his knees,

I knew my son was too kindhearted,

I knew my son would never yield.

The last I met was a dying rebel,

Bending low, I heard him say,

God bless my home in dear Cork city,

God bless the cause for which I die.

(Х,он рыжый ,факт )