Friday, July 15, Sunday, July 17, and Wednesday, July 20,2022
"It is very difficult to find the beginning."
--Philippe Claudel, Les Âmes grises
"No one will ever see Sligo as we saw it."
-- An older W.B. Yeats in conversation with his sister Lily in 1936
We sense home in some faraway places,
and all along the way; we go back to long-lost,
long-forgotten beginnings, to remote places
along land, sea and shore, the beginning perhaps
a few old houses in the Silver Mountains south
of Nenagh, or southeast of Ballina, southwest
of Toomyvara, east of Castleconnel, closeby
Sliexekimalta—t'was there once, we reckon.
We lived along the sea in Kerry or Clare,
went back and forth, to and fro, to places
where Irish is still spoken: "Dia duit, "
and "Dia's Muire duit"in return.
And yes, "Go ne-eiri do bhothar leat."
Yes, we feel these places home—
like Yeats did Sligo in summer,
and in early winter snow.
Dear Sandra Feldman, Thank you for your comment. I hope you will read of my poems, just enter my name 'Dennis Ryan' in the Poem Hunter search box.
A very touching and sincere poem, written with deep, heartfelt words and true emotion. A pleasure to read and feel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Dennis, I have always felt an affinity with all things Irish. And your poem is no exception! It has reinforced my desire to visit Ireland. Thx so much for the vivid imagery!
Dear Richard Wlodarski, I am happy you liked my poem about Ireland. I am Irish on my father's side of the family, and our Irish family hails from places places named in my poem.