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Beautiful Irish Poem
Song
by Thomas Moore
the greatest Irish lyrist
born Dublin, 1779 - died 1852
Have you not seen the timid tear
Steal trembling from mine eye?
Have you not mark'd the flush of fear,
Or caught the murmur'd sigh?
And can you think my love is chill,
Nor fix'd on you alone?
And can you rend, by doubting still,
A heart so much your own?
To you my soul's affections move
Devoutly, warmly, true:
My life has been a task of love,
One long, long thought of you.
If all your tender faith is o'er,
If still my truth you'll try;
Alas! I know but one proof more -
I'll bless your name, and die!
by Thomas Moore
the greatest Irish lyrist
born Dublin, 1779 - died 1852
Have you not seen the timid tear
Steal trembling from mine eye?
Have you not mark'd the flush of fear,
Or caught the murmur'd sigh?
And can you think my love is chill,
Nor fix'd on you alone?
And can you rend, by doubting still,
A heart so much your own?
To you my soul's affections move
Devoutly, warmly, true:
My life has been a task of love,
One long, long thought of you.
If all your tender faith is o'er,
If still my truth you'll try;
Alas! I know but one proof more -
I'll bless your name, and die!
Replies to This Discussion
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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on -
RUNNING TO PARADISE
As I came over Windy Gap
They threw a halfpenny into my cap,
For I am running to Paradise;
And all that I need do is to wish
And somebody puts his hand in the dish
To throw me a bit of salted fish:
And there the king is but as the beggar.
My brother Mourteen is worn out
With skelping his big brawling lout,
And I am running to Paradise;
A poor life,do what he can,
And though he keep a dog and a gun,
A serving-maid and a serving-man:
And there the king is but as the beggar.
Poor men have grown to be rich men,
And rich men grown to be poor again,
And I am running to Paradise;
And many a darling wit`s grown dull
That tossed a bare heel when at school,
Now it has filled an old sock full:
And there the king is but as the beggar.
The wind is old and still at play
While I must hurry upon my way,
For I am running to Paradise;
Yet never have I lit on a friend
To take my fancy like the wind
That nobody can buy or bind:
And there the king is but as the beggar.
1914 WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS...............
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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on
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WHEN HELEN LIVED
We have cried in our despair
That men desert,
For some trivial affair
Or noisy,insolent sport,
Beauty that we have won
From bitterest hours;
Yet we, had walked within
Those topless towers
Where Helen walked with her boy,
Had given but as the rest
Of the men and women of Troy,
A word and a jest.
William Butler Yeats...........1914........How sweet to see what is,and enjoy.....Pierre
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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on
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The LADY`S SECOND SONG
What sort of man is coming
To lie between your feet?
What matter,we are but women.
Wash;make your body sweet;
I have cupboards of dried fragrance,
I can strew the sheet.
The Lord have mercy upon us....................................................
He shall love my soul as though
Body were not at all,
He shall love your body
Untroubled by the soul,
Love cram love`s two divisions
Yet keep his substance whole.
The Lord have mercy upon us....................................................
Soul must learn a love that is
Proper to my breast,
Limbs a love in common
With every noble beast.
If soul may look and body touch
Which is the more blest?
The Lord have mercy upon us...................................................
William Butler Yeats.......................................1938
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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on
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Dia dhuit a Lady Dianne,
Thank you for your reply......and I find Yeats always very close to reality,
Even in it`s dreams and it`s fantasies........human responses,
You are also always so kind and nice....
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Permalink Reply by kubana on -
After listening to some beautiful songs sung in Gaelic at the International Festival recently, I wrote the following in my English notebook for school. It is not about love for any one person in particular, but for the loved ones in all our lives- whether or not the love is the romantic sort.
Love you forever, everlasting love-
that's what the song promised,
that beautiful Irish song.
Words that hold no meaning
hold even less in a language I understand,
still they hold more magic
than I can comprehend.
He sings them in a language
I know little of;
in Gaelic or in English,
he sings a song of love.
Ihere's something in this Irish heart
that loves that Irish song-
and I daresay it says it best,
forgive me if I'm wrong.
It seems to sing my love for you-
your light, your life, your laugh-
and though the song is over, love,
my love for you won't pass.
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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on
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Dai dhuit a Kubana,
Wow super good expressions of feelings that you have for that song Kubana and for that person in particular,
What I see is authenticity and thruthfullness,and with this you cannot ever go wrong Kubana,to whom ever it concern.....thank so much for sharing those feelings.........that is super...Dia dhuit ar Maidin
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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on
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Toward Summer
Harsh winter gone
How sweet and mellow,
The smell of spring rain mist,
When life awake and start to peel.
Shalimar and spices
Awakening senses,
Make light dreams alive
Feelings of these,not in bottle to keep
Precious times to hold.
Enjoyments so rare compensate
Souvenirs of rudeness endure,
Weightness gone in warm sunlight
Birth of new life within old ways,
Yearning well being
Summer fields and warm soft air.
This for Walter, Lady Dianne,Mary,Ozzy,and all friends who read on this page
From me.........Pierre
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Permalink Reply by Walter on -
Pierre,
‘Oh how sweet it is to hear one's own convictions from another's lips.‘
(Goethe, Johann Wolfgang Von). For those of us that live in Eastern Canada the ‘smell of spring rain mist’ is indeed a welcome sign given the long duration of our harsh winters. Your poetic observation captures the ‘feeling’ of seasonal transition and the sense of ‘awakening’ when our dreams again become alive. I for one relish the advent of spring and the promise of the impending summer knowing all too well the dread of our inevitable winter.
‘Summer fields and warm soft air’ – Ah! I am alive again – thanks Pierre! Now, if you could just extend this feeling for an extra few months I would be so happy. Again, you have provided another nice and timely contribution to the Poetry Forum. Bravo!
Walter . . .
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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on
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Dia dhuit a Walter,
Only a great soul as you can describe as perfectly,senses and toughts of one.....
Will extend these feelings for a few extra months for you my friend..............lol
Thank you Walter you are and will always be a best friend to me,will provide another
In a week or so..from reality of life....I always appreciate very much your comments Walter
Wish you sun and warmth in the heart and out,keep well Walter....Le Gach Dea Beannacht,mo Cara
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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on
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Dia dhuit a Lady Dianne,
Your a great soul Lady Dianne,feelings as these is felt by those who felt them before and enjoyed,your so grand for me lady Dianne,amazing in my eyes and so kind,thank you so much for your comments.Only good and nice things come from you Lady Dianne,love what you are all the way.wish you Sun and Harmony for this MOTHER`S DAY for you are a best one
Lady Dianne....so honor to know you and appreciate....Wolf and Hawk will always protect you and yours for ever...that is my wish and never to part...Sith agus Slainte bha Mo Cara......
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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on
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Dia dhuit a Lady Dianne,
Rememberence........of Those who fought for our freedom......ackknowledgement...
Appreciatiations of them.......lets put them in our lives so we do not forget....their big heart and soul
So they gave their lives for us........so grand on your part Lady Dianne,and so beautyfull poem,
You are of those who reconnize kindness and sacrifice....Unique and grand are you Lady Dianne,
Thank you so much
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Permalink Reply by Deragon Pierre on
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SEEING THROUGH
While living in Ballybofey
Pa always yell at me,
Remembering how many times
Hard work me boy,never kill anyone,
Working in peat bog,is hightly recommended
Was rude and grim,and self-minded,
Doubts always remains
Seeing what the old man had become.
Wise words of his,appears in my mind forgotten
Life`s done it`s toll,and enlightment,
Fulfillement shown the path
What hard work meant.
Makes you proud and sturdy
Teach perseverance and good will,
To be true and forgiven
Teach respect and engagement,
Give talent and awareness
Makes you care for one another.
When your done Pa muffle.......
Stand straight and proud,
Look in front of you ,never be ashame
Of what you are and think,
An Irishman is proud and witty
Care for land and countryman,
As he always been doing,and looked
Rude and grim,self-minded......................
From me to all my friends on LiveIreland....................Pierre
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