I rise
Up everyday
Like the glorious sun
But I fail sometimes to reach my
Summit
And yet
I learn
With every night
That the darkness can be
The easiest place to look for
The light
In the darkest of night, in the deepest of storms,
When all sound is eroded and all sight has elapsed.
When the entity arises with staff in his hand,
The Avenger of life; The Reaper, he stands.
When the world is divided and the soldier’s gun aimed,
As they gaze upon a land full of hatred and rage.
As war creates anger, base food for the weak
And the timid huddle together joined by a fearful streak.
No fear shall I have, no tear shall I cry,
No doubt for the future, no woe shall I sigh.
When ignorance breads hatred through the veins of brothers,
As the cord that binds us is untied and unattached.
When it’s brother against brother, battle of morals,
There can be no winner but forever foolish quarrels.
While the walls hold the cries of frightened little children,
In the heart of each stone lie the blood and the bruises.
The Adult, the Guardian, the Figure in the night
Makes innocent little children feel dirty neath the light.
No fear shall I have, no tear shall I cry,
No doubt for the future, no woe shall I sigh.
When disease engulfs and courage is tested,
The body feels betrayed by the mother, the protector.
As the ravages of decay mean now you walk, not run,
And the foreboding termination means tomorrow may never come.
When no more is there evidence of the strength of nature,
As the walls of destruction fall forth and crush the seed.
As the green of the earth becomes engulfed by doom,
And no more shall we witness the flowers beautiful bloom.
No fear shall I have, no tear shall I cry,
No doubt for the future, no woe shall I sigh.
For you will stand tall with strength in your hand,
Love in your heart and me at your command.
How could I fall into a crevice of decay,
When you stand beside me to bring life to my day.
Poems, Poetry, Poets
Some lays of the Fianna, translated from the Irish by Annraoi de Paor with illustrations by Tim Halpin
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