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
- A Meeting With Despair by Thomas Hardy
- A Mother’s Lament for her Son’s Death by Robert Burns
- A Plain Life by William Henry Davies
- Алексей Толстой – Вновь растворилась дверь
- March poem – A. E. Housman
- Turns by Tony Harrison
- Николай Карамзин – Гимн
- The Dream poem – Alexander Pushkin
- Olney Hymn 5: Jehovah-Shalom: The Lord Send Peace by William Cowper
- Омар Хайям – Что я дружу с вином, не отрицаю, нет
- Георгий Иванов – То, о чем искусство лжет
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Все люди
- Джон Китс – Девчонка из Девона
- Notice by Steve Kowit
- Autumn – The Third Pastoral, or Hylas and Ægon poem – Alexander Pope poems | Poetry Monster
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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).