How beautiful is my Ireland when it rains

Introduction :
Translation from an original french song I wrote. 
Link here
So, unfortunately, there is no rhyme but the story is the same.
(And thanks to my dear friend Graham who corrected my awful English !)
Enjoy !

The men hold an umbrella in the street,
The women smile and look so relaxed,
The rain can’t stop the couple of lovers,
How beautiful is my Ireland when it rains.

People tell me stories about all the myths,
Fairies and Dwarves hidden under Tír na hÓige,
And Hunt Treasures for the most curious,
How beautiful is my Ireland when it rains.

The rainbows show the pot of gold,
Next to Leprechauns until the sunrise,
That makes the young and the old dream,
How beautiful is my Ireland when it rains.

The sheep walk around the hills,
Always so green up to the top,
And the magic returns to the Heaven,
How beautiful is my Ireland when it rains.

After work, it’s the laziness,
Running to the Pub, for a Guinness,
Everything is fine because everybody is happy,
How beautiful is my Ireland when it rains.

The Dolmens raise up in the lowlands,
Reminiscing on the magic stories they heard,
And children have sparkles in their eyes,
How beautiful is my Ireland when it rains.

People talk, get up and dance,
They all tell me their sweet childhood,
I think he fell in love with me,
How beautiful is my Ireland when it rains.

The tide brings back the shipwrecks,
The jellyfish and crabs, on the shore,
The men yell on their favorite football teams,
How beautiful is my Ireland when it rains.

The Pints are drunk all night,
And the music makes everyone fearless,
But it’s a place where we can do everything we want,
How beautiful is my Ireland when it rains.

How beautiful is my Ireland when it rains.

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