A year ago, Domhnall Mac Síthigh (Danny Sheehy), died tragically in a boating accident off the coast of Portugal. We went to visit our great friend Maire Uí Ghráda, Danny’s widow. In the course of the visit, she brought us around her local area, Baile Eaglaise, and I got my first swim in the Atlantic in over 30 years. It was a wonderful time for all of us in the course of which this poem came in, as it were. I am grateful to Máire for the help she gave me correcting my very poor Irish, but in saying that I am glad to be having a go at it again after all these years. It connects me to a deeper part of myself for which I am grateful.
A sight I have not seen for years
two dogs drive cattle along
marshalled to the side
kept out of harm
from passing cars
on the narrow winding bóithrín*
controlled with military precision
by the lean rapidly leaping canines
An mbeidh báisteach amárach
a dúirt sí ón ngluaisteán
ní bheidh ar seisean.
bhfuel ní bheidh tú díomhaoin
tá a lán le déanamh
is fíor é, slán go fóill**
We moved slowly past
the narrow line in tight
formation
I am back in Baile Eaglaise
back in time
back to my own roots
a place I have missed
almost my whole life
back to the core of me
those cúpla focal as Gaeilge***
rock me into the steadiness
of who I am
fear cathrach Gaelach
mo shaol go hiomlán i mBéarla
is ganntanas é seo****
Peadar Ó Chleirigh
July 2018
*a small track of a road
**Will it rain tomorrow
she asked from the car
it won’t he replied
well you won’t be idle
there is a lot to do
that’s true goodbye
***a few words of Irish
****a city Irishman
reared entirely through English
and that’s a loss
Sue Phillips
23.07.2018 19:19
Lovely Peter. I especially like the Gratitude poem but of course mostly the New Friend. Dogs are our great teachers, always in the moment and experts at unconditional positive regard.
Máire Uí Shíthigh
10.07.2018 07:21
Is maith liom an dán Peter. Lá dár saol.
Tom Dredge
04.07.2018 21:49
Fair play Peter. Is maith liom é. Tá orm níos mó Gaielge a fhoghlaim.
Clíodhna
04.07.2018 09:30
Go h-álainn! Bhí mé ag caoineadh. Grá, Clíodhna
Daithi Wyse.
03.07.2018 22:32
I love it Peter. Beautiful capture of a moment in time, a longing chun cónai as gaeilge.
Maith an fear.😉
Latest comments
25.11 | 22:15
Grief is experience through the mundane. Simple but powerful. The accompanying image really compliments the poem.
07.11 | 11:14
Hi Peter,
A great observation! Social media can be a scary place... I also need to reduce my time there
Hugs,
John.x
06.11 | 16:24
A great one, Peter, in the context you describe. I don't read social media myself, I doubt my equilibrium could stand it. 'The balance of his mind disturbed' yes, I think it would be.
06.11 | 15:59
Yes, gossip is a weapon of mass destruction.
In my business as well as personal life I have zero tolerance.
Echoes of the Old on the New Battlefields
Warrior chiefs of the GAA were early on the field to prepare:
Posts and cones positioned to mark territories
Very young novices came later by parents’ chariots
clad and shod for the ensuing battles
Firstly, paced for speed, resilience and flexibility,
then marked off into opposing teams
Each warrior chief led a young squad of hopefuls
in further exercises to bring them to fit levels
There followed a huddle, an exhortation rant,
responded with clamour of intent and enthusiasm
Skirmishes began, speed across the field, hunt for the ball,
to be delivered as the goal, or to be prevented at all costs
Warrior chiefs egged on, instructed, altered the field of play
the young ’uns complied with fighting spirit
For every fall and hurt spells were cast on the side line
till fitness returned and they were entered back into play
Scores mounted, roars enhanced, casualties grew,
novices flagged and regrouped across the fields
Between bouts came the talks of encouragement
Stay back, pass, pass, pass, keep the pace.
Old hands passing skill onto new palms with dedication,
a gift of generous wisdom gladly given
Peter Clarke
20th April 2024