Cradle - A Triolet
(An old post but as we're nearing mid-summer's day...)
The cradle of all – the living, the dead
Where Sol and Lahanna hold thrones,
Where many a sacrifice leached earth red;
The cradle of all – the living, the dead;
Sol guarantees bounty and harvests that fed
We worshipers at these stones;
The cradle of all – the living, the dead
Where Sol and Lahanna hold thrones.
The cradle of all – the living, the dead
By light of Lahanna is shown;
She makes both nightly and monthly her tread;
The cradle of all – the living, the dead -
The circle by which our women have bled
Having their childness outgrown;
The cradle of all – the living, the dead
By light of Lahanna is shown.
The cradle of all – the living, the dead
By moonlight in winter winds blown
We danced to Lahanna with white robes shed;
The cradle of all – the living, the dead;
Then filed down the Causeway by Elders led
Who chanted in hypnotic tones;
The cradle of all – the living, the dead
By moonlight in winter winds blown.
The cradle of all – the living, the dead
Where no-one is ever alone,
Where ancestors lived and ancestors bred -
The cradle of all – the living, the dead;
Their spirits and souls to the netherworld fled;
We buried in barrows their bones;
The cradle of all – the living, the dead
Where no-one is ever alone;
The cradle of all – the living, the dead
Where no-one is ever alone.
Harry O'Neill
Sun 23rd Jun 2013 14:43
John,
I noted this but had my nose to the poetic grindstone.
It minds me of reading somewhere that the real business of poetry is to re-awaken the feeling of myth (a pre-religous sort of reverential awe at the existence of mystery)
The lightly chanting repetitive form of this, coupled with the references to birth and death really do re-create that mythical atmosphere.
( and - for this one - the picture fits perfectly)