It’s not really my thing, poetry. Like the scrum in rugby it’s a mystery to me therefore I don’t appreciate the processes and skills involved.
But I watched the docu-film ‘One Million Dubliners‘ yesterday. It’s all to do with Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin. I absolutely commend this to you.
During the film, John Sheahan, the surviving member of the original ‘Dubliners’ band recites his poem which I thought I’d share with you on this last day of 2014. Happy New Year everyone.
The ploughman leaves his trace on field and furrow
The sculptor’s mark is etched in chiselled stone
With sheaves of gold the thatcher’s name is written
In rings of clay the potter’s name is known
When day is done and evening firelight beckons
When tradesmen all are free from toil and care
I linger in the shadows with my fiddle
And softly leave my signature, in air