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
- Story Of Lilavanti
- at_the_zoo.html
- Олег Бундур – Что будет, если
- Владимир Высоцкий – Тот, кто раньше с нею был
- Юлия Друнина – Русский вечер
- Elm by Sylvia Plath
- Words Unspoken by Mark Olynyk
- Владимир Британишский – Не поселятся ли олени
- The Brook poem – Lord Alfred Tennyson poems
- Наталья Хрущева – Дождик и художник
- Let me be to Thee as the circling bird poem – Gerard Manley Hopkins poems
- A Woman Waits for Me. by Walt Whitman
- Robert Burns: On Politics:
- Dockery And Son by Philip Larkin
- Path by Pierre Reverdy
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).
