Poem
Aifric Mac Aodha
The Soothing Word
The opening image commands belief:thousands and thousands of mice
streaming in and out
of the railway tracks.
Waiting for the whistle to sound
it’s felt under their bones.
Let the train come, in the end,
but before that: displacement.
Focal Faoisimh
Focal Faoisimh
Creidtear san íomhá thosaigh:Na mílte is na mílte luchóg
Ag rith isteach is amach
I measc ráillí an iarnróid.
Achar sula ligtear aon fhead,
Airítear í faoina gcnámha.
Tagadh an traein, sa deireadh
Ach roimhe sin, asláithriú.
© 2010, Aifric Mac Aodha
From: Gabháil Syrinx
Publisher: An Sagart, Dingle
From: Gabháil Syrinx
Publisher: An Sagart, Dingle
Poems
Poems of Aifric Mac Aodha
Close
The Soothing Word
The opening image commands belief:thousands and thousands of mice
streaming in and out
of the railway tracks.
Waiting for the whistle to sound
it’s felt under their bones.
Let the train come, in the end,
but before that: displacement.
From: Gabháil Syrinx
The Soothing Word
The opening image commands belief:thousands and thousands of mice
streaming in and out
of the railway tracks.
Waiting for the whistle to sound
it’s felt under their bones.
Let the train come, in the end,
but before that: displacement.
Sponsors
