Tread Softly

Page 1

Classic Irish Poems for Children Edited by Nicola Reddy Illustrated by Erin Brown


Introduction My young daughter has always been fascinated by words. Whenever she comes across a new one, a furrow crosses her brow, followed by a little smile as she considers the potential of this tiny treasure. When she was learning to speak, one of our favourite books to read together was a giant collection of nursery rhymes. I knew many of them from my own childhood, but while reading them with a little one, I realised that they were full of strange, old-fashioned words. (Even I’m not quite sure what curds and whey are, never mind a tuffet.) Watching her figure out these simple verses reminded me why the best poetry is so magical, for any of us, at any age. Even if at first it seems challenging or obscure, all it takes is a striking image or familiar idea, along with lovely rhythm and rhyme – and suddenly you’re on the path to understanding and enjoying the whole. Still, the most wonderful poems are also filled with mystery and nuance; they grow and change with the reader. The poems in this book, by some of Ireland’s most celebrated writers, will feel a certain way when you read them first; they will feel different in years to come, transformed by your own knowledge and experiences; and different again if you choose to share them with someone you love.

Nicola Reddy


Contents ‘Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven’ by W.B. Yeats

page 8

‘Les Ballons’ by Oscar Wilde

10

‘Lambs’ by Katharine Tynan

12

‘On Snow: A Riddle’ by Jonathan Swift

13

‘On the Beach at Fontana’ by James Joyce

14

‘The Planter’s Daughter’ by Austin Clarke

16

‘The Heart of the Wood’, anonymous, translated by Lady Augusta Gregory

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‘Freedom’ by George William (AE) Russell

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‘Beg-Innish’ by J.M. Synge

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‘A Mayo Love Song’ by Alice Milligan

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‘The Fisherman’ by Lady Jane Wilde

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‘Home’ by Francis Ledwidge

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‘In Tír na nÓg’ by Ethna Carbery

28

‘The Wayfarer’ by Patrick Pearse

32

‘Echo’ by Thomas Moore

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‘I Am Raftery the Poet’ by Antoine Ó Raifteirí, translated by Douglas Hyde

36

‘The Scholar and His Cat, Pangur Bán’, anonymous, translated by Robin Flower

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‘The Little Waves of Breffny’ by Eva Gore-Booth

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‘The Lake Isle of Innisfree’ by W.B. Yeats

42


‘Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven’ W.B. Yeats Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

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Aedh is the Celtic god of the underworld and was one of the Children of Lir.

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‘Les Ballons’ Oscar Wilde Against these turbid turquoise skies The light and luminous balloons Dip and drift like satin moons Drift like silken butterflies; Reel with every windy gust, Rise and reel like dancing girls, Float like strange transparent pearls, Fall and float like silver dust. Now to the low leaves they cling, Each with coy fantastic pose, Each a petal of a rose Straining at a gossamer string. Then to the tall trees they climb, Like thin globes of amethyst, Wandering opals keeping tryst With the rubies of the lime.

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Oscar Wilde wrote this poem while watching children playing with their balloons in the Jardin des Tuileries in Paris. 11


‘Lambs’ Katharine Tynan He sleeps as a lamb sleeps, Beside his mother. Somewhere in yon blue deeps His tender brother Sleeps like a lamb and leaps. He feeds as a lamb might, Beside his mother. Somewhere in fields of light A lamb, his brother, Feeds, and is clothed in white.

A riddle is like a puzzle in words. Jonathan Swift’s gives the reader lots of clues to help them find the answer (snow!). 12


‘On Snow: A Riddle’ Jonathan Swift From Heaven I fall, though from earth I begin, No lady alive can show such a skin. I’m bright as an angel, and light as a feather, But heavy and dark, when you squeeze me together. Though candour and truth in my aspect I bear, Yet many poor creatures I help to ensnare. Though so much of Heaven appears in my make, The foulest impressions I easily take. My parent and I produce one another, The mother the daughter, the daughter the mother.

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‘On the Beach at Fontana’ James Joyce Wind whines and whines the shingle, The crazy pierstakes groan; A senile sea numbers each single Slimesilvered stone. From whining wind and colder Grey sea I wrap him warm And touch his trembling fineboned shoulder And boyish arm. Around us fear, descending Darkness of fear above And in my heart how deep unending Ache of love!

James Joyce loved to combine words to make new ones, like ‘pierstakes’ and ‘slimesilvered’. 14


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‘The Planter’s Daughter’ Austin Clarke When night stirred at sea, And the fire brought a crowd in, They say that her beauty Was music in mouth And few in the candlelight Thought her too proud, For the house of the planter Is known by the trees. Men that had seen her Drank deep and were silent, The women were speaking Wherever she went – As a bell that is rung Or a wonder told shyly And O she was the Sunday In every week.

The ‘planter’ was the rich local landlord, whose house was hidden by rows of tall trees. 16


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