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
- The Great War by Vernon Scannell
- A Meeting poem – Alfred Austin
- Виктор Гончаров – Скоро, скоро я домой поеду
- A Conceit by Maya Angelou
- Николай Заболоцкий – Лодейников
- Fragment – Wee Willie Gray (Song) by Robert Burns
- Федор Сологуб – Кольцо и венок
- Lament For The Makers By William Dunbar
- The Needle poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Home Sick
- On The Lord Gen. Fairfax At The Seige Of Colchester poem – John Milton poems
- Insolent Storm Strikes At The Skull by Sylvia Plath
- The Beginning of the End by Rixa White
- The Triumph by Siegfried Sassoon
- Song—A Fiddler in the North by Robert Burns
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).
