Friday, January 31, 2014

St. Brigid's Day

I am older than Brigit of the Mantle,
I put songs and music on the wind
Before ever the bells of the chapels
Were rung in the West
Or heard in the East.
I am Brighid-nam-Bratta:
Brigit of the Mantle,

I am also Brighid-Muirghin-na-tuinne:
Brigit, Conception of the Waves,

And Brighid-sluagh,
Brigit of the Faery Host,

Brigit of the Slim Faery Folk,

Brigit the Melodious Mouthed
Of the Tribe of the Green Mantles.

And I am older than Aone (Friday)
And as old as Luan (Monday)

And in Tir-na-h’oige my name is
Suibhal: Mountain Traveler,

And in Tir-fo-thuinn, Country of the Waves,
It is Cu-gorm: Gray Hound,

And in Tir-na-h’oise,
Country of Ancient Years,
It is Sireadh-thall: Seek Beyond.

And I have been a breath in your heart,
And the day has its feet to it
That will see me coming
Into the hearts of men and women
Like a flame upon dry grass,
Like a flame of wind in a great wood.

Fiona MacLeod / William Sharp


For Yolanda: Red Ophelia

Red Ophelia's hands on paper--
Words inscribed in her own blood--
Has  forgotten what is water,
Shy Gypsy in a crimson dress.

Brigid, mistress of the mantle,
Lend you fire, bring you joy--
Come visit me in the forest,
Green Ophelia of the Trees.


Harlequin said...

Hiraeth ... Brighid-nam-Bratta ... et al .. forgive my noticing a certain Celtic pattern ... Tir na nog

Iulia Flame said...

Tír na nÓg--land of tuatha De Danann. Perhaps when one wanders from there to here, one becomes homesick.

when trees as gilded as bees

Above the 61st parallel, the colors of Autumn mark our parting with the bees, and the last days of real warmth. I had begun to transl...

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