John F. McCullagh

Silver Star - 3,793 Points (09/28/1954 / Flushing)

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.

Topic(s) of this poem: Politics

Poet's Notes about The Poem

This is a poem about the Irish famine memorial in lower Manhattan.

Comments about The Stones Cry Out by John F. McCullagh

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

Poem Submitted: Sunday, August 3, 2014

[Report Error]