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The Mountainy Singer
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Twine the mazes thro’ and thro’
Over beach and margent pale;
Not a bawn appears in view,
Not a sail!
Round about!
In and out!
Thro’ the stones and sandy bars
To the music of the stars!
The asteroidal fire that dances
Nightly in the northern blue,
The brightest of the boreal lances,
Dances not so light as you,
Cliodhna!
Dances not so light as you.
THE FIGHTING-MAN
A fighting-man he was,
Guts and soul;
His blood as hot and red
As that on Cain’s hand-towel.
A copper-skinned six-footer,
Hewn out of the rock.
Who would stand up against
His hammer-knock?
Not a sinner —
No, and not one dared!
Giants showed clean heels
When his arm was bared.
I’ve seen him swing an anvil
Fifty feet,
Break a bough in two,
And tear a twisted sheet.
And the music of his roar —
Like oaks in thunder cleaving;
Lips foaming red froth,
And flanks heaving.
God! a goodly man,
A Gael, the last
Of those that stood with Dan
On Mullach-Maist!
MY MOTHER HAS A WEE RED SHOE
My mother has a wee red shoe —
She bought it off a bacach-man;
And all the neighbours say it’s true
He stole it off a Leath-brogan.
Bacach-man, bacach-man,
Where did you get it?
Faith now, says he,
In my leather wallet!
My father has an arrow-head —
He begged it off poor Peig na Blath;
And Mor, the talking-woman, said
She found it in a fairy rath.
Peig na Blath, Peig na Blath,
Where did you get it?
Faith now, says she,
In my wincey jacket!
My brother has a copper pot —
He tryst’ it wi’ a shuiler-man;
And gossip says it’s like as not
He truff’d it from a Clobhair-ceann.
Shuiler-man, shuiler-man,
Where did you get it?
Faith now, says he,
In my breeches’ pocket!
BY A WONDROUS MYSTERY
By a wondrous mystery
Christ of Mary’s fair body
Upon a middle winter’s morn,
Between the tides of night and day,
In Ara’s holy isle was born.
Mary went upon her knee
Travailing in ecstasy,
And Brigid, mistress of the birth,
Full reverently and tenderly
Laid the child upon the earth.
Then the dark-eyed rose did blow,
And rivers leaped from out the snow.
Earth grew lyrical: the grass,
As the light winds chanced to pass —
Than magian music more profound —
Murmured in a maze of sound.
White incense rose upon the hills
As from a thousand thuribles,
And in the east a seven-rayed star
Proclaimed the news to near and far.
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Книга дельная. Без воды, приводятся реальные кейсы и способы их разрешения. Много практичных полезных советов и методик. Кое-что уже испробовала в дел...
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