Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Aifric Mac Aodha

Orphan

My father and mother
Were proud of me:
They never let on
That I didn’t make the wake.
 
When I came back, years later,
Their coffins had been gnawed.
I laid a trap down for a rat
And caught a little bird.

Dilleachta

Dilleachta

M’athair is mo mháthair,
Asam, bhí mórálach:
Ní ligfidís le héinne é
Gur scaoileas tharam a dtórramh.
 
D’fhilleas orthu blianta anonn,
Bhí gnaíte ar a gcónraí.
Chuireas gaiste síos don fhrancach,
Ach níor cheapas ann ach smólach.
Close

Orphan

My father and mother
Were proud of me:
They never let on
That I didn’t make the wake.
 
When I came back, years later,
Their coffins had been gnawed.
I laid a trap down for a rat
And caught a little bird.

Orphan

My father and mother
Were proud of me:
They never let on
That I didn’t make the wake.
 
When I came back, years later,
Their coffins had been gnawed.
I laid a trap down for a rat
And caught a little bird.
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