Being again on the Ring of Kerry
I am enraptured by the purple hills
Peaking up among hanging mists;
And in green fields won by farmers
From rocks and rush and heather
Flocks of lazy sheep grazing away.
By mountain gaps and sea glimpses
Roads rising like the Kerry eagles,
Lined with orange-red montbretia,
Soaring over every cosy little cove:
Making me heady and stirring again
The mercurial veins of humdrum:
Making whole the soul fragmented.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem