Love poems are undoubtedly the hardest for me to write. I have composed only a handful that I consider successful in my life time. Here are three of those, all about the same person ^_^ You may note the ‘marriage’ of medieval mysticism and Pagan Otherworlds.
Poetry is such a meandering thing. I can’t say I’m the sort who works on the art of writing poetry or who reads widely or consistently to better acquaint myself with the source material… at least, I don’t do this with the kind of structure or consistency that makes sense to declare anywhere on the internet! But I care very intensely about developing a style, voice, and a sensory reality.
My sister writes BEAUTIFUL poetry that is much like her dreams – often in the style of epic narrative. With a temporal flow and an arc of completion. She once pointed out that my poetry evokes vignettes of mood and sensory experience. A window into a brief mystical moment. This is incidentally also very much like my dreams (albeit with the added potential for positivity since my dreams are almost exclusively terrible & terrifying… horrific, gothic, sublime.)
I am firmly of the view that poetry should be read aloud. At least, MINE should be… with breaks (or ‘rests’?) only as dictated by punctuation, rather than (GASP! HORROR!) at the end of every line. If you take into consideration that much of what I’ve written has included direct musical reference (in addition to those that can already be achieved through metre and so on), you may see that I *try* to extend the audio-visual to include music and dance.
Thus, in the poem “Untitled (Hazel for a Boy)” the hazel in the palm is a reference to the writings of Julian of Norwich on the nature of love… and I have layered this with a common trad descriptor of young beloveds: (nut) brown boy/girl. One long standing favourite of mine is “Ille Dhuinn, S’ Toigh Leam Thu”
The Scottish Gaelic lyrics are as follows:
’Ille dhuinn, ’s toigh leam thu,
’S toigh leam fhìn thu, laochain;
Mas toigh leat mi, is toigh leam thu ‑
’S gur òg a thug mi gaol dhut.
Dh’fhalbh mi mar a b’ àbhaist dhomh
Air sàillibh coimhead chaorach ‑
’S beag a bha dhem fhor orra,
’S mo leannan air a’ chaolas.
Nuair dhìrich mi suas Criongrabhal,
’S e m’ inntinn nach robh aotrom ‑
Bha ’m bàta mach gu Saighdeanais,
’S i toidhdidh fo cuid aodaich.
’S ann a their mo phàrantan
Gur tàmailt leotha m’ fhaoineas ‑
Gum faighinn fear na b’ fheàrr na thu
Le bàtaichean ’s le birlinn.
Ged gheibhinn fear na b’ fheàrr na thu
Le bàtaichean ’s le birlinn,
Gum b’ fheàrr leam fhìn an gille donn
Is e gun bhonn dhen t‑saoghal.
Ged gheall mi dhut gun leanainn thu
’S gun dealaichinn ri mo dhaoine,
Cha d’ rachainn dha Na Hearadh leat
Air cheannachd air an t‑saoghal.
Ged a bhithinn pòsta riut
Is còir agam air d’ fhaotainn,
Cha b’ fhada bhithinn beò agad
’S an Dòmhnallach às m’ aonais.
In English:
Brown-haired lad, I’m fond of you,
I’m really fond of you, boy;
If you’re fond of me, I’m fond of you-
I’ve loved you since I was young.
I set off as usual
to look for the sheep
but scant attention gave I to them,
knowing my beloved was in the strait.
When I climbed Criongrabhal,
my spirits were low –
the ship, with well-trimmed sails,
was out near Saighdeanais.
My parents say that
my foolishness is a source of shame to them –
that I could attract a better man than you,
an owner of ships and galleys.
Though I could have a better man than you,
an owner of ships and galleys,
I would much prefer the brown-haired lad
though he hadn’t a penny in the world.
Though I promised you I’d follow you
and part company from my people,
nothing in the world
could induce me to go to Harris.
I wouldn’t survive long if married to you,
while pining for MacDonald.
Note that in Scottish Gaelic as well as in Irish the manner of describing hair colour is to pair the colour with the type of person directly, e.g. brown boy. The translation above opts for the “brown-haired” descriptor to make it clearer in English.
There are many other examples of songs that make reference to a nut-brown colour (many of which are super cringe tourist favourites here in Ireland) but this is the one that I have most often in mind due to it’s melancholy sound and its emphasis on the difficulties of separation and limited finances. Having formed and kept a bond across the Atlantic … between worlds, over nine waves, across time and space… lends itself quite well to the shared lore of our relationship. Indeed, this kind of poetic layering also lends itself to the spellbound witchy otherworldly quality of being fascinated and devoted to any human person other than myself. <3
Another such colour symbol, of course, is the azure blue… the medieval link with lapiz lazuli and text illuminations. Or the blue-grey/blue green (glás!) of the sea. The list goes ever on and on.
To my chosen person: “I have walked the world to find you. I’ve worn out the soles of three pairs of iron shoes and my hair is no longer red. But I come to claim you…”*
~ Saoirse.
*From “Hans, My Hedgehog” in Jim Henson’s The Storyteller
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