She stands on Grafton st with her barrow of roses amongst the fruit sellers of Dublin. Nearby an old woman plays a tin whistle of an old Irish air. A little tramp dances a jig as the people clap in time and sing a perfect moment in the past.
Michael Cochrane ©
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
sing a perfect moment in the past............Scintillating memories, sweetest poem about Dublin 1888.5 Stars Full.