This St. Brigid’s Day, we’re looking at ‘A Brigid’s Girdle’, from Heaney’s first collection after his Nobel Prize win.
In the poem, he hopes for magical healing powers for an ill friend from his Harvard days, Adele.
Wishing you all a lovely and peaceful day with your loved ones.
And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
The horrifying reality of being a woman, perfectly summarised by @_CaitlinORyan
If you give even the slightest shit about women, watch it all. This is what it’s like.
But wind comes up from the shore:
They shake when the winds roar,
Old bones upon the mountain shake
The words of WB Yeats that Edna O’Brien, who was buried today, requested on her headstone.
It's time for the All-Ireland Hurling final 👊
After a thrilling championship, Clare and Cork are ready to lock horns at Croke Park!
📲 Watch live on BBC Two and @BBCiPlayer#BBCGAA
Heaney was fascinated by bog bodies, even travelling all the way to Denmark to see the Tollund Man. He would have been amazed to learn of this exciting discovery in his beloved Bellaghy.
https://t.co/v3SQy2xibX
With plenty of 'Dangerous pavements' out there we share this haiku that Heaney wrote for the new year in 1987. It's a short but poignant poem written only a few months after the passing of his father.
'Dangerous pavements.
But I face the ice this year
With my father’s stick.'
@reviewwales Happy St Hilary’s Day ….January is sent to test us, to probe for weakness, to make us thankful for other months…and all the while the minute marches onwards to Spring 😀😀😀