Light Up the Hills for Tara - October 31!

On the night of October 31 - All Hallow's Eve or Samhuin -please LIGHT A FIRE if you can, on the nearest hill to you, in solidarity with those who will be lighting their fires on Tara's Hill. Let us create a global 'chain of light' that hopefully will inspire those in power to rethink and re-route the M3 motorway.

(photo (c) Paula Geraghty used with permission: featured in http://www.indymedia.ie).)

The Harp that once
Thro' Tara's Hall
The soul of music shed
Now hangs as mute
On Tara's wall
As if that soul
were fled.
So sleeps the pride
Of former days
So glorious thrill is o'er



And hearts that once
Beat high for praise
Now feel that pulse
No more.

No more to chiefs
And ladies bright,
The harp
Of Tara swells
The cord alone
That breaks at night
Its tale of ruin tells

This freedom now
So seldom wakes
The only throb she gives
Is when some heart
Indignant breaks,
To show that still
She LIVES!
- Thomas Moore 1779-1852 -

Preserve the Heritage before it's too late!
For the Love of Tara
Blessings
LN

A Druid's Lament

(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!