Ireland a people of the oppressed, a people like grass. conquered and scattered, the hand of persecution is upon them, both by force and subtlety. from the hunger imposed by the English tyrant, to the scandals of the church itself, every act is a cutting this grass, throwing away the herbicide, poisoning, but the wisest peasants know that the grass, whether you burn it or trample it, it always comes back, it suffers, it disappears for a few moments, but then returns; this is the faith of Ireland and basically, the Faith of all peoples on the way to the cross.