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
- Robert Burns: When She Cam’ Ben She Bobbed :
- On Returning To England poem – Alfred Austin
- Alternate Destination by Sriparna Bandyopadhyay
- A Morning Letter by Stevens Cadet
- Another On The Same poem – John Milton poems
- Олег Бундур – Кулинар
- Николай Языков – А. Н. Вульфу (Мой брат по вольности и хмелю)
- Эмиль Верхарн – Я покидаю сна густую сень
- On The Plethora Of Dryads by Sylvia Plath
- The True Use of the Looking-Glass by William Somervile
- Николай Заболоцкий – Осенний клен
- The Pleiades poem – Amy Lowell poems | Poems and Poetry
- Владимир Маяковский – Послание пролетарским поэтам
- Dreamers by Siegfried Sassoon
- Наум Коржавин – От дурачеств, от ума ли
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).
