Beautiful Irish Poem

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on January 28, 2009 at 8:10pm

Dia dhuit a Lady Dianne,
Thank you for reply Lady Dianne,
There are great songs from Nothern Ireland with great verses and poems in them...
But would like to know more..surely one day...lol...Slan go foill..!!

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Permalink Reply by Frank Daub on February 2, 2009 at 7:50pm

My Dear LiveIreland Family, especially the singers of poems, during a brief illness I spent some time working on poetry AND listening to LIL (specially our Klara).

Yesterday, in the quiet of a little retreat, I put a poem together about Ireland.

Just wanted to share, since I have been so long away. This is especially for Walter, Pierre, Felicia and Lisa, the hearts and souls of this particular group.

Here is the poem.

I’M FOR STOPPING; BRENDAN’S NOT©

A poem by Frank Daub
January 31, 2008

I’m for stopping; Brendan’s not.
The sea is just down there.
I am anxious for the sight
of stone turned to bread by the wash
of foam and the jetting of the salt water.

I’m for stopping; Brendan’s not.
The spiraling gulls
are sunlighted bright in their play
above the sand,
their startling dive
toward the sea is brief
in time and sight.

I’m for stopping; Brendan’s not.
The freedom of the coast
was eight hundred years
at taking.
One bold county man’s toast
to the awakening water
baptizes the youth
who have forgotten Eire for other lovers.

I’m for stopping; Brendan’s not.
I haven’t heard the all
of every song
or the rise and fall
and rise of every story
that set a mother’s son
free to calculate a career.

I stand for stopping; Brendan says, “too late.”
I want to stay
where the past has gone,
old rebel cries and songs.

Yet,
it’s Brendan through the gate,
and gone
and done
and through with old.

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on February 2, 2009 at 8:23pm

Dia dhuit a Frank,
What a nice way to appear again,like Sring you are to refresh us all.
Of your wisdom and wiseness,your experience make it so brightly
For us to enjoy again.......Welcome back Frank so glad to hear from you
Hope you are feeling better and will enjoy life to it`s fullest

So beautyfull description of nature on your behalf,never forgetting Ireland
In it`s soul so great and seashores so grand and beautyfull,thanks again Frank
For sharing your toughts and needs.....Go Raibh mile maith agat Mo Chairde......Pierre

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Permalink Reply by Frank Daub on February 2, 2009 at 10:02pm

Good to hear from you, too, Pierre. I am deeply honored, always, by your kindness and the generosity of your comments.

I deeply love Ireland, and poetry and cannot see one ever without the other.

May spring come soon to all of us and may we always be together on Live Ireland.

Your Lower Forty Eight friend,

Frank.

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on February 3, 2009 at 1:30pm

Dia dhuit a Frank,
My greatest wish is like you said Frank is that we stay together for always,
Because we are so relate to Ireland for ever.May your health be at the most enjoyable I will always, appreciate your friendship...........Pierre

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Permalink Reply by Frank Daub on February 3, 2009 at 12:51am

Lady Dianne

What a treat and a pleasure to receive a message from so gracious a Lady! yes, Ireland is like this. I have been twice. Have a cousin in Dublin. The poem is meant to display the loss og Irish culture and tradition by today's young people. This, I am afraid, is happening in Ireland. And slo we have the pleasure and joy of LiveIreland.com.

I am honored.

May the peace of God be yours.

Frank in St. louis

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Permalink Reply by Felicia on February 3, 2009 at 2:43am

Frank, my dear friend! I am so thrilled to see oyu back; I so feared you had taken to travel or abandoned us for awhile, but I am enormously gratified to see you back, and very appreciative of oyur kind words--thank oyu so much. I absolutely love your poem; it is enormous in the very moost special of places. I will read it again and again in the coming days, as it has touched me very deeply and I want to savor it fully, think a little and savor some more! Welcome back! My sincerest heartfelt hope that oyu are truly feeling better these days. You have ben missed!

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Permalink Reply by Walter on February 4, 2009 at 12:07am

And there I sat, day after day, in quiet repose watching the bereft pages of LI for the return of the one we call ‘The Master’. ‘Twas neither duty nor compliance that bade me watch but the anticipation of words yet unspoken. Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows – mine was in the ‘not knowing’. Where is Frank?

Hi Frank . . . all this to say a big ‘Welcome Back’! You can see from the comments of your friends that your absence was lamented. And what a comeback – your poem is as usual poignant, well versed and reflective of Ireland’s youth – perhaps in a greater sense all youth. It is the age we live in – instant this and instant that. The days of yesterday are just that – passé. Whoops! Got to run – I have to Google something right now!

Continued ‘Good Health’ . . . Walter

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Permalink Reply by terry ferdinand on February 4, 2009 at 5:29pm

nothing to say other than it touches the soul
terry

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on February 9, 2009 at 1:29pm

Dia dhuit a Lady Dianne,
Wow what a nice surprise,You chose my favorite place in Ireland Lady Dianne,
Innishowen,County Donegal,very light and soft poem by Owen Brennan indeed,
Drescription of picture and surroundings is exquisite and touch the heart,
Rememberence of it, is awesome to the tought,good moments are to share,
Thank you for sharing Lady Dianne,super photo,your a great soul.................Pierre

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on February 14, 2009 at 6:51pm

Poems of Devotion,

Columcille The Scribe ( A.D. 521-597 ),The Beloved Irish saint,

My hand is weary with writing,
My sharp quill is not steady.
My slender beaked pen pours forth
A black draught of shining dark-blue ink.

A stream of wisdom of blessed God
Springs from my fair brown shapely hand:
On the page it squirts its draught
Of ink of the green skinned holly.

My little dripping pen travels
Across the plain of shining books,
Without ceasing for the wealth of the great-
Whence my hand is weary with writing.

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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on February 16, 2009 at 1:56pm

The Hermit`s Song,

I wish,O Son of the living God,
O ancient,eternal King,
For a hidden little hut in the wilderness
That it may be my dwelling.

An all-grey lithe little lark
To be by its side,
A clear pool to wash away sins
Through the grace of the Holy Spirit.

Quite near,a beautyfull wood,
Around it on evey side,
To nurse many-voiced birds,
Hiding it with its shelter.

And facing the south for warmth;
A little brook across its floor,
A choice land with many gracious gifts
Such as be good for every plant.

A few men of sense-
We will tell their number-
Humble and obedient,
To pray to the King:-

Four times three,three times four,
Fit for every need,
Twice six in the church,
Both north and south:-

Six pairs
Besides myself,
Praying forever to the King
Who makes the sun shine.

A pleasant church and with the linen altar-cloth,
A dwelling for God from Heaven;
Then,shinning candles
Above the pure white Scriptures.

One house for all to go to
For the care of the body,
Without ribaldry,without boasting,
Without thought of evil.

This is husbandry I would take,
I would choose, and will not hide it:
Frangrant leek,
Hens, salmon,trout,bees.

Raiment and food enought for me
From the King of the fair fame,
And I to be sitting for a while
Praying God in every place.

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