Fad leis seo a thagadh cairde agus lucht gaoil an té a bhí ag imeacht chun na coigrithe. B'anseo an scaradh. Seo Droichead na nDeor
Family and friends of the person leaving for foreign lands would come this far. Here was the separation. This is the Bridge of Tears
so let us go to Falcarragh
where I kiss you by the corner
with salt on the lips
and a mouthful of chips
where my ma wants me home
by eleven at the latest
and the neighbour’s dog slobbers
its love against our cheeks
where we meet on the beach
with braids of seaweed by our feet
and the wind begins to jive
through the tangles of your hair
where we share a drink (or three)
and sláinte (more than once)
on the crossroads of yesterday
and the rest to come
say goodbye by the bridge
with my hands in your pockets
our tears specks of memories
we scrunch hard to keep in
Feb 2, 2018
Feb 2, 2018 at 7:12 PM UTC
Fad leis seo a thagadh cairde agus lucht gaoil an té a bhí ag imeacht chun na coigrithe. B'anseo an scaradh. Seo Droichead na nDeor
Family and friends of the person leaving for foreign lands would come this far. Here was the separation. This is the Bridge of Tears
so let us go to Falcarragh
where I kiss you by the corner
with salt on the lips
and a mouthful of chips
where my ma wants me home
by eleven at the latest
and the neighbour’s dog slobbers
its love against our cheeks
where we meet on the beach
with braids of seaweed by our feet
and the wind begins to jive
through the tangles of your hair
where we share a drink (or three)
and sláinte (more than once)
on the crossroads of yesterday
and the rest to come
say goodbye by the bridge
with my hands in your pockets
our tears specks of memories
we scrunch hard to keep in
Written: Febriary 2018.
Explanation: A poem written in my own time. Falcarragh is a small town in north-west Ireland - in Irish it is known as 'An Fál Carrach.' Ten minutes south of the town is a location known as The Bridge of Tears. Here, in a time before many modern roads, friends and family of emigrants would go their separate ways, with the emigrants heading for Derry Port. Most of these individuals would never return - it was a final farewell. A stone close to the bridge contains the message included at the start of this poem. Please note that 'sláinte' is a Gaelic term for 'cheers', said during a toast and meaning, more literally, 'health.' All feedback welcome. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.
NOTE: Many of my older poems have been put on private recently by me, leaving only more satisfying pieces, alongside old university work.
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