Monday, September 26, 2011

knocknarea mountain ireland


Red Hanrahan's Song About Ireland by William Butler Yeats

The old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand,
Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand;
Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies,
But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The wind has bundled up the clouds high over Knock- narea,
And thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Maeve can say.
Angers that are like noisy clouds have set our hearts abeat;
But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The yellow pool has overflowed high up on Clooth-na-Bare,
For the wet winds are blowing out of the clinging air;
Like heavy flooded waters our bodies and our blood;
But purer than a tall candle before the Holy Rood
Is Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

2 comments:

  1. Clooth-na-Bare. W. B. Yeats's transmogrification of Cailleach BhÊirre. Unlike her predecessor in Irish tradition, Clooth-na-Bare is not a sovereignty figure. Instead, she seeks the deepest lake in which to drown her fairy life as she has grown weary of it.
    http://franklludwig.com/xslievedaeane2.html

    ReplyDelete
  2. sights of Cummen Strand
    http://franklludwig.com/xcummeen.html

    ReplyDelete