(c) Paula Geraghty used with permission
Rise up, Ye heroes of the distant past,
And claim your share of earth from Hill to Hill;
Do battle once again in Gabhra's Glen,
And in the dark of night those trenches fill.
Let not the present age disturb your tomb:
Arise, O Cormac's son and fight the foe;
And, Lugh, come forth and send your thunderbolts,
And put to flight these philistines below.
Come forth, you Kings that graced that ancient site;
Let Lia Fáil return them to their reign;
Do battle, Connand Naill, and fight the cause
Don't rest until as was it is again.
Stand up, you Hound of Ulster, show your hand,
To scatter your gravediggers out of sight;
Let Fionn and all his Fianna rise again
And demonstrate once more their ancient might.
I sigh for Tara, Screen and Gabhra's Glen
Oh! Ireland, Mother Ireland, where's your shame?
You've let your sons your heritage destroy,
And all for avarice and wealth and fame.
We 're hypnotised by Celtic Tiger's eyes,
We 're blinded by our passing present state,
Ignore the riches of our ancient past,
But when our sight's restored it is too late.
Seamus O' Callaghan
21 -09 - 2007
Note from Poet:This lament is meant to be shared and read aloud.
Pass it On!