#Irish #NobelPrize #XXCentury #XXICentury
It is December in Wicklow: Alders dripping, birches Inheriting the last light, The ash tree cold to look at. A comet that was lost
Shifting brilliancies. Then winte… In a doorway, and on the stone doo… A beggar shivering in silhouette. So the particular judgement might… Bare wallstead and a cold hearth r…
“We were killing pigs when the Yanks arrived. A Tuesday morning, sunlight and gutter-blood Outside the slaughter house.
Up, black, striped and demasked li… At a funeral mass, the skunk’s tai… Paraded the skunk. Night after ni… I expected her like a visitor. The refrigerator whinnied into sil…
On the grass when I arrive, Filling the stillness with life, But ready to scare off At the very first wrong move. In the ivy when I leave.
As a child, they could not keep me… And old pumps with buckets and win… I loved the dark drop, the trapped… Of waterweed, fungus and dank moss… One, in a brickyard, with a rotted…
My father worked with a horse-plou… His shoulders globed like a full s… Between the shafts and the furrow. The horse strained at his clicking… An expert. He would set the wing
Here is the girl’s head like an ex… Oval-faced, prune-skinned, prune-s… They unswaddled the wet fern of he… And made an exhibition of its coil… Let the air at her leathery beauty…
Air from another life and time and… Pale blue heavenly air is supporti… A white wing beating high against… And yes, it is a kite! As when on… All of us there trooped out
The annals say: when the monks of… Were all at prayers inside the ora… A ship appeared above them in the… The anchor dragged along behind so… It hooked itself into the altar ra…
Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests; snug as a gun… Under my window, a clean rasping s… When the spade sinks into gravelly… My father, digging. I look down
The pockets of our greatcoats full… No kitchens on the run, no strikin… We moved quick and sudden in our o… The priest lay behind ditches with… A people hardly marching... on the…
Fishermen at Ballyshannon Netted an infant last night Along with the salmon. An illegitimate spawning, A small one thrown back
When all the others were away at… I was all hers as we peeled potato… They broke the silence, let fall o… Like solder weeping off the solder… Cold comforts set between us, thin…
Some day I will go to Aarhus To see his peat-brown head, The mild pods of his eye-lids, His pointed skin cap. In the flat country near by