Thoughts Of An Irish Slave In Scotland 924 A.D. Poem by David McLansky

It's a hard and bitter scrabble life
Fierce with venom and so much strife;
Cold salt water within their veins,
A look of hatred should you complain;
The land is dry and long wind blown,
Years of hardship in thin soil sown,
From this feeble rock strewn soil.
A bread of gall for all their toil;
The women cold and wracked with guilt
For passion felt beneath thick quilts;
Then it's rise up early in the morn
To face the daily blast of scorn;
The men rough hewn by brine and rock,
The cattle gaunt and thin of stock;
A land of quarrels and cunning raids;
Wet wool in rain and haggard blades.....