Paulin …

What a big, stinkin' hape of horse-shite!

Thon wudn't pass muster, at all, at all!

I've been spen'in' a quare bit o' time lately translating th'oul' Sweeney lyrics an' I reckon thon's as good as poetry gets. So, here, in Sweeney-style, I'll gi'e you a wee hawn till think wi' this one!

Big is the ass to him
Nine-times big and big again
Bigger than the Gap of Dungloe
Softer than the Bog of Allen

Greedy is the gub on him
Greedy for eatin' the diet of lords
The hairy bacon of Galtee
The gold butter of Kerry

Tight is the shiny suit on him
Tighter, in sowl, than the hangman's noose
That choked the life
From our glorious dead

Shiny is the tight suit on him
Shinier, in faith, than the seldom-seen sun
Whose miserable warmth
Keeps us this side of freezin'

Dulcet his tones
Sweeter than the breath of the maiden Emer
That teases the neck
Of Cuchulllain the brave

Slimy his ways
Slimier than the spawn of frogs
That gather in spring
In St. Brigid's Well

Vain is he
Vainer indeed than the dancer Flatley
(Whose vanity
Is a riddle, alright!)

Great is his girth
Girthsome indeed, aye nine times girthsome
More girthsome by far
Than the drummer Gino