The rainbow arch hangs in space
at Lindisfarne, a cannonball's leap
frozen in stone. Hail and rain rattle
the walls like shot, the sea keeps up
its cavalry charge. Cows graze
salt-bleached grass, descendants
of those spared by the monks
who spent more on gunpowder
than parchment.
Cold as steel, the salty air
that cramped their fingers
as they hefted the sacks
of black meal, protection
against the devil's reivers.
Within, by the fire, Eadfrith
lit the pages of the gospels
on calf-skin pricked with needles,
tatooed with inks. So slow a fuse
burning in red and gold, his truth
needing a little help from the gunsmith,
shielding the spark, so easily flaring up
and catching hold.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
my thanks go to you for the poem and the notes. if i had read notes first i would not have had to look up reive and i would not have thought black meal referred to the gunpowder......food for the guns. [actually the reference to black meal still is unclear to me. did gunpowder and shot not suffice to repel the reivers, so the monks gave the reivers flour (wheat flour? ; why black?) ? ? ] i especially enjoyed: The rainbow arch hangs in space at Lindisfarne, a cannonball's leap frozen in stone. ...........................and the weather/sea/munitions comparisons. glad you are a law-abiding descendent. bri