Shancoduff
by Patrick Kavanagh
My black hills have never seen the sun rising,
Eternally they look north towards Armagh.
Lot’s wife would not be salt if she had been
Incurious as my black hills that are happy
When dawn whitens Glassdrummond chapel.
My hills hoard the bright shillings of March
While the sun searches in every pocket.
They are my Alps and I have climbed the Matterhorn
With a sheaf of hay for three perishing calves
In the field under the Big Forth of Rocksavage.
The sleety winds fondle the rushy beards of Shancoduff
While the cattle-drovers sheltering in the Featherna Bush
Look up and say: ‘Who owns them hungry hills
That the water-hen and snipe must have forsaken?
A poet? Then by heavens he must be poor.’
I hear and is my heart not badly shaken?
End of the poem
15 random poems
- Traveling Dream by Marge Piercy
- Not Fear by Rafael Guillen
- Olney Hymn 32: The Shining Light by William Cowper
- Sonnet 106: When in the chronicle of wasted time by William Shakespeare
- A Poplar and the Moon by Siegfried Sassoon
- Владимир Маяковский – Что делать?.. (РОСТА №193)
- Жан де Лафонтен – Ссора Собак с Кошками и Кошек с Мышами
- A Scot To Jeanne D’Arc poem – Andrew Lang poems
- Ольга Берггольц – Родине
- Владимир Высоцкий – Дела
- Sonnet: As From The Darkening Gloom A Silver Dove poem – John Keats poems
- Владимир Высоцкий – Я стою, стою спиною к строю
- Michael Robartes And The Dancer by William Butler Yeats
- gesture_theory_a_villanelle.html
- Off Mesolongi poem – Alfred Austin
Some external links:
Duckduckgo.com – the alternative in the US
Quant.com – a search engine from France, and also an alternative, at least for Europe
Yandex – the Russian search engine (it’s probably the best search engine for image searches).
