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
- Yesterday’s Mishaps by Mary Etta Metcalf
- Николай Гумилев – Корабль
- An Ode of the Birth of our Saviour by Robert Herrick
- Afraid of rabbit HOLE by Neelam Sinha
- Владимир Гиппиус – Слава
- Кондратий Рылеев – К N. N. (У вас в гостях бывать накладно)
- Insensibility by Wilfred Owen
- Duns Scotus’s Oxford poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- “The flower, full blown, now bends the stalk, now breaks” poem – Alfred Austin
- At Queensferry by William Ernest Henley
- The Sleepers by Sylvia Plath
- Владимир Высоцкий – Песня лётчика
- To… (Kern) poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Conversation
- Robert Burns: Elegy On The Death Of Sir James Hunter Blair:
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).
