The Little Waves of Breffny Poem by Eva Gore Booth
The Little Waves of Breffny
The grand road from the mountain goes shining to the sea,
And there is traffic in it and many a horse and cart,
But the little roads of Cloonagh are dearer far to me,
And the little roads of Cloonagh go rambling through my heart.
A great storm from the ocean goes shouting o'er the hill,
And there is glory in it and terror on the wind,
But the haunted air of twilight is very strange and still,
And the little winds of twilight are dearer to my mind.
The great waves of the Atlantic sweep storming on their way,
Shining green and silver with the hidden herring shoal,
But the Little Waves of Breffny have drenched my heart in spray,
And the Little Waves of Breffny go stumbling through my soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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9/19/2024 1:04:26 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I learned this poem in school maybe 60 years ago and I have always loved it. I wonder what waves in Breffny the poet is talking about - the waves on some little lake in Breffny, perhaps I have not found much material on the background of this poem although of course there is much on the poet herself.
Does it refer to Breaffy an area in north Sligo adjacent to Cloonagh or is it the fact that Cloonagh and it sheltered beach was at the extremity of the ancient O'Rourke Kingdom of Breffni which extended from ‘Kells to Drumcliffe'.