Gedicht
Catherine Phil MacCarthy
Irish Elk
Irish Elk
Irish Elk
Giant antlers shine at nightdiamond, sapphire, branch
in a neighbour’s garden,
light up the moonless dark
for children going to bed,
as if the Great Irish Elk,
extinct seven thousand years,
turned in his grave
beneath the lake at Lough Gur,
and bellowing rose
from the bog, trailing peat
from his hinds, to roam
the hills and woods of Ireland,
at this time of snow
falling all across the land,
on our road, ghost at
large, and twice as tall as Man
come back to haunt us.
© 2012, Catherine Phil MacCarthy
From: The Invisible Threshold
Publisher: Dedalus Press, Dublin
From: The Invisible Threshold
Publisher: Dedalus Press, Dublin
Gedichten
Gedichten van Catherine Phil MacCarthy
Close
Irish Elk
Giant antlers shine at nightdiamond, sapphire, branch
in a neighbour’s garden,
light up the moonless dark
for children going to bed,
as if the Great Irish Elk,
extinct seven thousand years,
turned in his grave
beneath the lake at Lough Gur,
and bellowing rose
from the bog, trailing peat
from his hinds, to roam
the hills and woods of Ireland,
at this time of snow
falling all across the land,
on our road, ghost at
large, and twice as tall as Man
come back to haunt us.
From: The Invisible Threshold
Irish Elk
Sponsors
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère