John F. McCullagh
The stones cry out Poem by John F. McCullagh
From every county of old
The stones have come to speak again.
Joined together in these four walls
They tell the tale of vanished men.
One million dead, the Hunger's harvest
A million more fled overseas.
The potatoes, on which they depended,
Lay rotting in the Irish fields
It was a hard death they endured;
Their sentence passed by
The stones cry out, the stones remember
the shadows of the hunger slain.
They curse the British who dissembled
Who showed less mercy than the rain.
They cry out loudest for the children;
The bairns of that famished land.
Their mother's arms, their only coffins.
their sole possession was their names.
John F. McCullagh's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (The stones cry out by John F. McCullagh )
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
- NHIEN NGUYEN
(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
(21 May 1688 – 30 May 1744)
- Ba con Mèo, NHIEN NGUYEN
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love .., Pablo Neruda
- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe
- Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night, Dylan Thomas