Will Vigar

poet. writer. imposter.

Féach Thiar (Fastnet)

Steam driven exiles, ragged, beaten by absentee 
english, leave a tear far behind them - its paraffin 
eye scanning stony atlantic
tar ar ais
tar ar ais

It calls, blazing through sea-fret 
to refugees mourning, as they sink 
into black keen horizon

It ignores the plastic exuberance
of yachts dancing around 
an charraig aonair.
tar ar ais
tar ar ais
Sabatier hulls slice
through the surface tension 
shearing a canvas and polyester
swathe, embroidering the waves 
with temporary threads 
of amity – fair weather friends.
Ní thuigim cén fáth 
nach bhfeicim ach tú ag imeacht.

tar ar ais
Tar ar ais go dtí an t-oileán uaigneach.

A strange one it that deals obliquely with the irish potato famine and what gits the English were, the Fastnet Yacht Race (or is it the lonely Island Yacht Race now?) but it’s mostly about the lighthouse missing those people who fled the potato famine and is waiting for them to come home.

Apologies for the potentially dodgy gaelic. Google translate isn’t the most reliable of aids…


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This entry was posted on October 14, 2020 by in Poem, poem of the day, Poetry, Will Vigar and tagged , , , , , , , , , , .
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