My Dark-Haired Girl

My dark-haired girl, the sky is bright,
And on this last and lovely night
I would, from this old hillside’s height
This time with you retain —
Nevermore we’ll tread these grasses,
Never down the lane
Singing will we go together,
Free from grief, and pain —
Fortune, with its winter passes,
Drives me home again:
But as long as we’re together
Love will us sustain —
Yet see, my love, the sky is bright,
And on this last and lovely night
I would, from this old hillside’s height
This time with you retain.

My dark-haired girl, up here we met,
And that great night is precious yet,
When my few honest words could get
A tearful smile from you —
Hearts were pledged ere either knew it,
How the moments flew:
Mine was gone before I knew it,
With a glance from you —
Though this wan’dring, as we call this,
Nevermore we’ll do,
Now, I’d say goodbye to all this
And, my love, to you —
My dark-haired girl, up here we met,
And this great night is precious yet,
When these few honest words can get
A tearful smile from you.


(Loose translation of “Mo Nighean Dubh”, an old Gaelic folksong – Owen)

Followers

Paraphrased from Essay 48 : “Of Followers And Friends” by Francis Bacon. This one seems remarkably prescient.

not all should be liked,

for some make your train longer

and your wings shorter

= = = = =

Paraphrased from Essay 48 : “Of Followers And Friends” by Francis Bacon

ghost village

how the village now sits, alone
that once was full of people;
how she grieves now for her lost

once, she held her shapely head high
a promising girl among grown women –
now a forgotten widow

the tears she cries in the evening
glisten silently on her cheeks
and none who proclaimed love for her reach out a hand

for those once claiming to be friends
they laughed the loudest among those
who cheered her downfall

.
..

..
.

Paraphrased from the “Book of Lamentations”