A Collection of Poems

Put out on the fields a physical laborer, a thinker, and a poet.

Land lost. Land of me. Home to dreams. The dreams have gone and she has turned into dreams.

Ah, sunflower, withered flower, offspring of the empire, I was away a long time and now you are drooping.

They brought me from Ireland, still a boy to begin their book. I remember the day I left — soft bread, a silvering of geese, the sound of my...

It is a sharp, shining cupid's point I aim at your heart and draw

Yon vale among the mountains, So sheltered from the sea, That lake which lies so lonely, Shall tell their tale to thee.

And now I will tell a fable for princes who themselves understand.  Thus said the hawk to the nightingale with speckled neck,  while he carr...

There are people who starve to death, others who sleep rough in the winter

Long ago my Ancestors knew time They counted moons They watched sunrises No one needed hours Nor tiny little seconds Days were enough

From  my lips in their defilement, From my heart in its beguilement.  From my tongue which speaks not fair,  From my soul stained everywhere...