#Irish #NobelPrize #XXCentury #XXICentury
“We were killing pigs when the Yanks arrived. A Tuesday morning, sunlight and gutter-blood Outside the slaughter house.
I was six when I first saw kitten… Dan Taggart pitched them, 'the sc… Into a bucket; a frail metal sound… Soft paws scraping like mad. But… Was soon soused. They were slung…
The annals say: when the monks of… Were all at prayers inside the ora… A ship appeared above them in the… The anchor dragged along behind so… It hooked itself into the altar ra…
A rowan like a lipsticked girl. Between the by-road and the main r… Alder trees at a wet and dripping… Stand off among the rushes. There are the mud-flowers of diale…
He would drink by himself And raise a weathered thumb Towards the high shelf, Calling another rum And blackcurrant, without
The pockets of our greatcoats full… No kitchens on the run, no strikin… We moved quick and sudden in our o… The priest lay behind ditches with… A people hardly marching... on the…
We have no prairies To slice a big sun at evening— Everywhere the eye concedes to Encrouching horizon, Is wooed into the cyclops’ eye
Air from another life and time and… Pale blue heavenly air is supporti… A white wing beating high against… And yes, it is a kite! As when on… All of us there trooped out
All year the flax-dam festered in… Of the townland; green and heavy h… Flax had rotted there, weighted do… Daily it sweltered in the punishin… Bubbles gargled delicately, bluebo…
Shifting brilliancies. Then winte… In a doorway, and on the stone doo… A beggar shivering in silhouette. So the particular judgement might… Bare wallstead and a cold hearth r…
I can feel the tug of the halter at the nape of her neck, the wind on her naked front. It blows her nipples
The cool that came off the sheets… Made me think the damp must still… But when I took my corners of the… And pulled against her, first stra… And then diagonally, then flapped…
Her scarf a la Bardot, In suede flats for the walk, She came with me one evening For air and friendly talk. We crossed the quiet river,
To-night, a first movement, a puls… As if the rain in bogland gathered… To slip and flood: a bog-burst, A gash breaking open the ferny bed… Your back is a firm line of easter…
I loved to carry Her violin case, its nose In air, its back end Nice and heavy, the balance Factored in and factored out.