The Homecoming - by
For Lois Pereiro
/
/ In Ithaca everyone was dead.
/ They say it was me, Argos the dog, who woke first:
/ — Dead, dead, dead!
/ A smell…
For Lois Pereiro
/
/ In Ithaca everyone was dead.
/ They say it was me, Argos the dog, who woke first:
/ — Dead, dead, dead!
/ A smell…
‘Tha tìm, am fiadh, an coille Hallaig’
/
/ Tha bùird is tàirnean air an uinneig
/ trom faca mi an Àird Iar
/ ’s tha mo…
In the beginning Love satisfies us.
/ When Love first spoke to me of love –
/ How I laughed at her in return!…
You hold the sapling straight, backfill,
/ heel it in. A rainbow
/ pours from the watering can.
a springtime ash, whose leaves emerge from black
/ an unlocked ash, so profligate with keys…
When the first darkness creeps upon the floor
/ Your comfort filters green into my nostrils,
/ There is no need to ask for…
Some friendly soul, quite near old age,
/ when time to think is plenty, sits,
/ still spry enough, beneath an olive tree,
/ to take…
Silence, the burden of the song,
Resumes where winds have blasted through.
The white fields swell to the dark sky,
The matrix they are frozen to.
They range amongst the upper limbs
/ like primates encumbered with care,
/
/ find parts of trees we’d recognise
/ as human gestures on the level,
/
/ pass…
A white cat
/ dozing on the windowsill
/ on a clear Easter evening,
/ outside the window rustling
/ with the Vilnia’s waters
/ a blossoming plumtree
/ from the hundred-year-old…
There’s a whole country at the foot of the stone
/ If you care to look
/ These are the stones we have instead…
More and more I have come to admire resilience.
/ Not the simple resistance of a pillow, whose foam
/ returns over and over…