Year: 2017

Horses 2

irlandesuk poetry , , ,

Horses 2

Horses for as long as I can remember
grazing in the field that borders
a cemetery attached to a Norman church
Work horses that do no work and sometimes
gather in the centre of the pasture
or under the shade of the old oaks
that line the northern perimeter

Week after week fresh graves are dug
in the burial ground that seems never
to run out of space : through gaps
in the fencing people stop to feed
carrots on which the horses chomp
without a care in the world

John Lyons

Les chevaux

Des chevaux pour autant que je me souvienne
Qui pâturent dans le domaine qui borde
Un cimetière attaché à une église normande.
Des chevaux de travail qui ne travaillent pas
Et parfois se rassemblent au centre du pâturage
Ou à l’ombre des vieux chênes qui marquent
la limite du périmètre nord.

Semaine après semaine, on creuse
de fosses fraîches dans le cimetière
Qui ne semble jamais manquer d’espace :
Profitant de trous dans la clôture
Les gens s’arrêtent pour offrir des carottes
Aux chevaux qui les mâchent
Sans le moindre souci du monde.

Caballos

Caballos allí desde cuando yo recuerdo
Pastando en el campo que bordea
Un cementerio junto a una iglesia normanda.
Caballos de trabajo que no trabajan
Y a veces se reúnen en el centro del pasto
O en la sombra de los antiguos robles
que marcan el límite del perímetro norte.

Semana tras semana, se cavan
nuevas tumbas en el camposanto
Que nunca parece quedarse sin espacio:
Aprovechando huecos en la cerca
La gente se detiene para ofrecer zanahorias
Que los caballos mastican
Sin el menor cuidado en el mundo.

Cavalos

Cavalos lá desde quando me lembro
Pastando no campo que fica ao lado
Do cemitério de uma igreja normanda.
Cavalos de trabalho que não trabalham
E às vezes eles se reúnem no centro do pasto
Ou à sombra dos antigos carvalhos
Que marcam o perímetro setentrional.

Semana após semana escavam
novos túmulos no cemitério
Que nunca parece ficar sem espaço:
Aproveitando buracos na cerca
As pessoas param para oferecer cenouras
Que os cavalos mastigam
Sem a menor preocupação no mundo.

Horses

irlandesuk poetry

Horses

Horses have been grazing in that field
for as long as I can remember

It’s a roughly square basin of a field
bordered by a road on three sides

and on the southern side by the wall
of an old cemetery attached

to a Norman church : the burial ground
never seems to run out of space

with fresh graves dug every week
But the horses live in a different world

Sometimes they gather in the centre
of the pasture but on warm days

they seek out the shade of the oaks
that line the northern perimeter

and through gaps in the fence people
will stop to feed them carrots

which the horses chomp with
unaffected nonchalance

seven or eight horses that appear
never to change— and why should they ?

John Lyons

Blessings

irlandesuk poetry

Blessings

Of all the blessings
           I could ever wish for
to see as love sees
           would be the greatest
to live as love lives

pure and unadulterated
           let all things be themselves
the rose and the unicorn
           the leopard and the wolf

but let love be
           a brilliant undying flame
never a gesture nor a word
           but being in all intensity

what the earth gives
           the earth takes away
but not love that surpasses
           all understanding

Love holds the heart firm
           never loses its grasp
even in the darkest night
           or through the coldest winter

and that is the essence
           of peace : to see as love sees
in all places at all times
           all souls of one mind

John Lyons

Endless reflection

irlandesuk poetry

Endless reflection

I wonder what it is
           that shapes the light
into love everlasting :
           at times the years

simply drop away
           as though nothing
was ever lost
           and failure
never known
           I have lost count

of all the faces
           that have shed
tears in my presence
           lost count
of all the roses
           and all the thorns

they say that it’s
           a learning curve
but what is there
           to learn of love
that gathers
           instinctively
in the aching heart
           If I had all the answers

I would share them with you
           but I have only my hands
and my lips
           and my words of love
and they are yours for as long
           as you desire them

John Lyons

Night

irlandesuk poetry

Night

The night brings peace
           silence and the promise
of deep sleep :
           it brings an end
to the evils of the day
           and hope for a better
day to come
           and it brings you
with your soft breath
           on my face
our bodies huddled
           together in the darkness
and it brings the confirmation
           of love and the certainty
that whatever the cost
           life is always worth living

John Lyons

Digression

irlandesuk poetry ,

Digression

When I was a child
           all the talk was of
how to grow the best roses
           and what types of soil
make for a better lawn

I remember those roses
           with their savage thorns
their soft petals
           dripping with morning dew
but nobody told me
           anything about the challenges
I would face in later life

I was not a sickly child
           and I learned most things
with relative ease
           I played out on the streets
my feet dragging home the dust
           only when the sun set

Life seemed in those days
           to be administered
by perfect hands and reality
           was representational
Had someone shown me
           a Jackson Pollock
I might have had an inkling
            of what was to come

No I am not ill today
           or any other day
not even tired
           simply perplexed
by the mystery of the stars
           scintillating above
an empty ocean

and yet I know exactly
           what I need to make
a perfect day and so do you
           so why don’t we ?

John Lyons

Remembrances

irlandesuk poetry

Remembrances

Last night as the dust descended
           I thought of how long
I have known these streets
           the fields and the woodlands
the winding roads and the houses
           barely changed since my childhood
and I thought too of other streets
           I have known in other places
so far away and yet
           I could still walk them in my mind

I thought too of all the love
           that has come into my life
and how some has remained
           and some has left me forever
and I thought of you and what
           your presence means to me
and how the days pass
           and the seasons come and go
and how in reality we are
           in a kind of fresh infancy
once again taking the first steps
           uttering the first words
holding hands and hoping
           that the feelings we share
will continue to grow and
           that our love will truly prosper

John Lyons

Tenderness

irlandesuk poetry

Tenderness

Tenderness
           the love expressed
in a spontaneous
           simple physical gesture
the palm of the hand
           of a young child
raised to stroke
           its father’s face

a lover who slowly runs her finger
           across her lover’s lips
the warm human complicity
           of the enduring smile
the bright eyes
           and that hand
always reaching out
           with its healing touch

John Lyons