Dóibh Siúd A Dúnmharaíodh 1845 -1850
(do Chris agus Mary Fogarty)
Féachann na réaltaí anuas
ach ní léir daoibhse a ndeora
folamh bhur meallta súl
réab an gorta bhur dtéada gutha
níl sibh in ann labhairt
bhur mbéal pulctha leis an gcré
atá torthúil arís
féachann na réaltaí anuas
ar an ngrán órga
nach meilfear go deo ina phlúr geal
ná ina arán ar bord
An chaor ar an gcuileann
ar crith –
clé deas clé deas clé deas clé
na gCótaí Dearga
trup na mbeithíoch ag imeacht go Sasana
A réaltaí, féachaíg’ anuas
go dtí nach mbeidh sa ghrian
ach abhac dubh
To The Murdered of 1845-1850
(for Chris and Mary Fogarty)
Stars look down
but you cannot see their tears
your eye sockets empty
hunger has torn your vocal chords
you cannot speak
your mouths stuffed with earth
that once again is fruitful
stars look down
on golden corn
that never will be bright flour
or bread on your table
The berry on the holly
is trembling –
Redcoats hollering
left right left right left right left
thunder of livestock on its way to England
Stars, look down
until the sun is nothing
but a black dwarf