Hollow faced, in threadbare cloak,
we wear a homemade mask of hope;
yet we march along in time-worn shoes,
as we have nothing left to lose, but hope.
We are children, families, Irish all -
who carry on with hope, somehow;
and fueling our human spirit, paradoxically,
is our unjustly tormented souls' brevity.
We will never yield disgraced, displaced;
and to the world we bravely face,
is the face we wear for show; our pride
in Ireland remains forever, to never die.
We are lovers, fighters, Irish all -
for Ireland's freedom, to never fall;
we live, long-suffering, behind a mask,
to our foes we show our united wrath.
Within our fiery breast lives hope
that Ireland will overcome her woe;
as our loss and sorrow becomes the past,
and we shall rise with the bird at last.
Author notes
To "rise with the bird" is an old Irish saying.
In a list
In Memoriam of Grace Gifford and Joseph Plunkett.
Comments
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Cyn, I can feel this piece in my heart as I read it. Love the second last stanza... we are lovers, fighters, Irish all...
thats sums it up totally.
Once you step foot on Irish soil, your life will never be the same.
A lovely tribute to Grace & Joseph.
Slán
Juls
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To Rise with the bird is an old Irish saying indeed, or "Up with the Lark" is the other. Bobby Sands MP rose with the lark, his first book and poem was actually called The Lark. Funny you writting this for ireland and the Myrters and Bobby was one.
This is writen with passion Cyn, straight from the heart. This was a verse that touched me the most, allthough it was all brilliant.
"We will never yield disgraced, displaced;
and to the world we bravely face,
is the face we wear for show; our pride
in Ireland remains forever, to never die."
Sineagh!
Slán Agus Gra Cyn
Dolores xx
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