Patrick Kavanagh Black Poems
- 1. My Father Played The Melodeon
My father played the melodeon
Outside at our gate,
There were stars in the morning east
And they danced to his music.
... - 2. Advent
We have tested and tasted too much, lover-
Through a chink too wide there comes in no wonder.
But here in the Advent-darkened room
Where the dry black bread and the sugarless tea
... - 3. The Great Hunger
I
Clay is the word and clay is the flesh
Where the potato-gatherers like mechanised scarecrows move
Along the side-fall of the hill - Maguire and his men.
... - 4. To The Man After The Harrow
Now leave the check-reins slack,
The seed is flying far today -
The seed like stars against the black
Eternity of April clay.
... - 5. Shancoduff
My black hills have never seen the sun rising,
Eternally they look north towards Armagh.
Lot's wife would not be salt if she had been
Incurious as my black hills that are happy
... - 6. Stony Grey Soil
O stony grey soil of Monaghan
The laugh from my love you thieved;
You took the gay child of my passion
And gave me your clod-conceived.
...
