William Butler Yeats

Brown Penny


I WHISPERED, 'I am too young,'
And then, 'I am old enough';
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
'Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.'
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.
O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.

William Butler Yeats

 

 

 

Irish Weather

Dromoland Castle for afternoon tea

Ireland's Glenn MIiller Mick Delahunty's Band

Mick Delahunty: Ireland's Glen Miller 
1915 Clonmel - R.I.P. 1992 


With his band he travelled to England to perform on two separate occasions.  In 1959 they toured the States and Canada, the first Irish band to do so, returning there in 1961. He performed at New Ross, Co. Wexford during President John F. Kennedy's visit in 1963. Two years later he headed the entertainment line up at Powerscourt House in honour of Prince Rainier and Princess Grace of Monaco's visit to Ireland. 
By the 1960s the scene was changing. People were looking for a different type of music: rock and roll. The era of the big band was coming to an end. However, Mick continued to tour Ireland and perform right up until his death in the 1992. Proud to say he was my late Mother's cousin


Very old recording but worth a listen
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIVJAFIK6TA

Irish Fairy Tales Contemporary Irish Author

7. Éilís Ní Dhuibhne – “Midwife to the Fairies”

In this story, a midwife is called on one night to assist a woman in labour, only to have to keep a terrible secret from the police in the days that follow.

       "  After a while they came to a steep hill. A door opened in the side of the hill and they went in. They rode until they came to a big house and inside there were lots of people, eating and drinking. In the corner of the house there lay a woman in labour."

Eilis Ni  Dhuibhne 

 It's a wonderful 'fairy tale', with all the darkness of that genre.

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Rock of Cashel Tipperary

The Rock of Cashel

Sir Aubrey de Vere (1788–1846)

ROYAL and saintly Cashel! I would gaze Upon the wreck of thy departed powers, Not in the dewy light of matin hours, Nor the meridian pomp of summer’s blaze, But at the close of dim autumnal days,         5 When the sun’s parting glance, through slanting showers, Sheds o’er thy rock-throned battlements and towers Such awful gleams as brighten o’er Decay’s Prophetic cheek. At such a time, methinks, There breathes from thy lone courts and voiceless aisles         10 A melancholy moral; such as sinks On the lone traveller’s heart, amid the piles Of vast Persepolis on her mountain stand, Or Thebes half buried in the desert sand.

Comeragh Mts

Reflections of Lough Mohra under Knockanafrainn (which means Hill of the Mass) Ridge high in the Comeragh Mountains, in County Waterford.

Thanks to Joe Ormonde Waterford Mts.

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

 

Cathleen the Daughter of Hoolihan

The old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand,
Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand;
Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies,
But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The wind has bundled up the clouds high above Knocknarea,
And thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Maeve can say.
Angers that are like noisy clouds have set out hearts abeat;
But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet
Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.

The yellow pool has overflowed high up on Clooth-na-Bare,
For the wet winds are blowing out of the clinging air;
Like heavy flooded waters our bodies and our blood;
But purer than a tall candle before the Holy Rood
Is Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.





 

Early Morning in the Comeragh Mts

Flann O'Brien/ Myles na gCopaleen 1911-1966

"The Workman's Friend"

When things go wrong and will not come right,
Though you do the best you can,
When life looks black as the hour of night -
A pint of plain is your only man.

When money's tight and hard to get
And your horse has also ran,
When all you have is a heap of debt -
A pint of plain is your only man.

When health is bad and your heart feels strange,
And your face is pale and wan,
When doctors say you need a change,
A pint of plain is your only man.

When food is scarce and your larder bare
And no rashers grease your pan,
When hunger grows as your meals are rare -
A pint of plain is your only man.

In time of trouble and lousey strife,
You have still got a darlint plan
You still can turn to a brighter life -
A pint of plain is your only man.
by Flann O'Brien (Brian O'Nolan)


A pint of plain is your only man = A pint of beer will solve all your problems


Brian Nolan was born in Tyrone he was a great Irish Novelist & Poet. He described and immortalized the Irish love of life and "craic" in his writing.



 

Irish Poet John O'Donohue

Beannacht / Blessing

by John O'Donohue


Original Language English

On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

-- from Echoes of Memory, by John O'Donohue