Showing posts with label Ireland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ireland. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 13, 2019

The poem The Lake Isle of Innisfree by William Butler Yeats

This is a beautiful poem by William Butler Yeats, one of my favorite poets. Yeats spent his childhood summers in County Sligo in northwest Ireland, and Innisfree is an uninhabited island in Lough Gill in County Sligo. The poem gives me peace just upon reading it, especially the last line, where Yeats talks about his heart's core hearing the lake water lapping. I understand that intuitively.


The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.


BY WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS


Friday, July 27, 2018

Castle Leslie Estate

On our recent trip to Ireland, we stayed at the Castle Leslie Estate for one night, and can highly recommend it. If you want to get away from the stress of the world for a while, this is the place to do so. The castle itself and the surrounding 1,000-acre estate is located in the village of Glaslough, a few miles northeast of Monaghan town in County Monaghan, Ireland, and less than 100 miles from Dublin. For more detailed information about the history of Castle Leslie, I refer you to their website: https://www.castleleslie.com/life-the-way-its-supposed-to-be/historical-castle-ireland/ . To quote from their website:

Life, the way it’s supposed to be…
Castle Leslie Estate in County Monaghan is nestled on 1,000 acres of undulating Irish countryside, dotted with ancient woodland and glittering lakes. It is one of the last great Irish Castle estates still in the hands of its founding family. Since the 1660s the distinguished and somewhat individual Leslie family have lived on the Estate. They have welcomed everyone from politicians to poets, ambassadors to ufologists to world renowned celebrities.

It is here that Paul McCartney and Heather Mills got married and had their reception, as we learned when we were there. Not that this information would have changed anything for me. But after that event, the Castle Leslie apparently became even more popular. So I was surprised when we actually were able to book a room there. The other surprising thing is that for the luxury offered, the prices are affordable. This is a nice weekend getaway for a couple looking to spend time together. There are no TVs in the rooms, which is a blessing in and of itself. We stayed in the Green Room, which has its own history; you can read more about it here:  https://www.castleleslie.com/accomodation/green-room/ . This room had a lovely expansive view of the grounds and the lake from the large bay windows.

We arrived early in the afternoon, and had time for a walk around the lake before dinner. It's possible to fish in the lake; one of the guests checking out at the same time as us had caught a couple of pike. I'm not sure what he did with them. After a very good dinner at Snaffles Restaurant, we had coffee in the courtyard fountain garden, and then walked around the castle rooms and the grounds. The rooms are beautifully-decorated, Victorian style, with lovely tapestries and furniture. The photos that I took don't do justice to the Castle and the surrounding estate, but I'm posting them here so that you get an idea of how lovely this place is. On the night we were there, even though it didn't rain, a rainbow appeared in the sky across the lake--perhaps showing us where the pot of gold might be if we were so inclined to pursue and find it. Or maybe it was just another sign that a little bit of heaven could be found here at this estate.





decorated for an upcoming wedding, no doubt--just magical



horseback riding is one of the activities here at the Castle





the courtyard where we drank coffee after dinner


one of the many lovely flower gardens


the boathouse





magical evening























Friday, July 20, 2018

Photos from Dublin, Adare, Galway, Knock, and Sligo

As promised, some photos from our trip to Ireland........

Christ Church Cathedral, Dublin


the village of Adare




Galway cemetery

Galway cemetery

Galway harbor area 

Info about the Knock Shrine in Knock, Ireland

at Knock Shrine

Yeats Memorial Building in Sligo

Garavogue River in Sligo

Sligo

Sligo

view of Benbulbin from our hotel window

Sligo at night

sign at a Sligo bakery

Yeats' grave in Drumcliff Cemetery 

view of Benbulbin from Drumcliff cemetery



Wednesday, July 18, 2018

Traveling through Ireland and Yeats country


















My husband and I traveled through Ireland this summer, starting in Dublin and working our way west. We started our trip by taking the overnight ferry from Oslo to Kiel, Germany, and then spent the following day driving through Germany to Rotterdam, Holland, where we boarded the overnight ferry to Hull, England. Once in England, we drove from Hull to Holyhead in north Wales, where we got the afternoon ferry to Dublin. We stayed two nights in Dublin, living at the Sandymount Hotel, in the Sandymount area of Dublin that is quite close to the ferry ports. The Irish poet William Butler Yeats (a favorite poet of mine) was born in this area of Dublin, a happy fact that I was not aware of when I booked the hotel. But that is the nature of my travel planning; I happily discover things that I was not aware of and they become an important part of the overall nature of the trip. We did the standard tourist-type things in Dublin--visiting the Temple Bar district to eat Irish food at one of the pubs there, and listening to some live music which I love. There is so much live music at each of the pubs in this area, as well as many street musicians. Lively and fun. We also took the Guinness Brewery tour, which I had done once before, but which my husband wanted to do. We also visited the Christ Church Cathedral, with its crypts in the cellar containing a number of treasures from medieval times.
From Dublin, we traveled west to Galway, but stopped along the way to visit the small town of Banagher, in the county Offaly. From there we drove through the town of Birr, through pleasant Irish countryside, and then on to Adare in County Clare, where my mother's relatives were from. Adare was recently voted as one of the prettiest towns in Ireland, and I can understand why. On our approach into the town, we passed an old castle and an abby, a golf course, and many green parks and open spaces. The town itself was filled with pubs, shops and small bistros; quite charming. The day we were there was 'Market Fair' day, and I ended up buying a lovely green wool cape that was knitted by one of the local craftswomen in the village. We ate lunch at a small bistro, and I had a salad with warm goat cheese and strawberries--just excellent. After Adare, we drove on to Galway, a city on the west coast of Ireland. My husband's colleague had highly recommended it, and we were not disappointed. It was a lovely quaint city. We stayed at the Nox Hotel, and spent the evening walking around. I took pictures at the local cemetery with gravesites marked by the tall Celtic crosses--a quite striking sight. We ate dinner at one of the city pubs, where I had a hamburger that was just so good, as was the beer. We ended up watching one of the World Cup soccer matches, and it was fun to experience that in a pub setting. We then walked around the city, along the harbor and into the city's Latin Quarter, with many street musicians and young people milling about. It was a warm and nice evening. The weather was sunny and warm for most of our trip; it was only when we were driving in Germany on our way home that we experienced pelting rain for some hours.  
After our stay in Galway, we drove north on our way to Sligo, stopping to visit the Knock Shrine in the town of Knock. This is an internationally-known Catholic shrine where in 1879, a group of townspeople saw apparitions of Our Lady, Saint Joseph, and Saint John the Evangelist. It was a peaceful place in a lovely setting, and I’m glad we stopped to visit there.
Our arrival in Sligo brought us into William Butler Yeats country. When I was fifteen years old, I was introduced to the Irish poet William Butler Yeats by my high school English literature teacher, who was Irish-born himself (from Banagher). Yeats was his favorite poet, and he soon became mine as well. Yeats imparted a sense of the Celtic influences and the magic of Irish culture, in a romantic way that appealed to me at that time. All these years later, it still appeals to me, and now I see the true genius of his talent even more clearly. I also understand his importance to Irish culture, literature, and even politics (more by association with his circle of friends). But it is the man who interests me. This was a man who bore an unrequited love for a woman named Maud Gonne; he asked her to marry him seven times, and she refused him each time, but they did remain friends throughout his life. She is considered by many to be his muse. His romantic longings are reflected in some of his early poems. She married the political activist John MacBride (Irish republican) who was executed by the British for his participation in the 1916 Irish Easter Rising in Dublin. Yeats eventually married a woman named George Hyde-Lees, considerably younger than him, who bore him two children, and who was also a great supporter of his writing. She is buried together with him in Drumcliff Cemetery in Sligo, Ireland. We arrived in Sligo in the early afternoon, and stayed at a hotel very close to the center of town. The Garavogue River runs through Sligo, and the river banks are dotted with one charming pub or restaurant after another. Again there was live music at many of them, which is one of the many things I love about Ireland. Sligo and the surrounding area were Yeats (and his family's) favorite places in Ireland, as I found out from the guide at the Yeats Memorial Building who told us the story of his life. Their mother was from Sligo, and they spent their childhood summers there, with fond memories of their stays there. Yeats is buried in Sligo, at the Drumcliff Cemetery surrounding St. Columba church, a ten-minute drive north of the town. From the cemetery, you can view the Benbulbin rock formation; you can also see it from Sligo as well. We visited Yeats' gravesite—plain and simple, no fuss surrounding it, probably as Yeats wanted. His epitaph reads 'Cast a cold eye on life, death, Horseman, pass by'. At the end of his life, Yeats had found the objective eye he had perhaps sought. Or even if he had not longed for objectivity, he had attained a certain amount of it after a long life. He was no longer the romantic poet and man of his youth. We become more objective as we grow older, at the same time as our romantic longings become a treasured part of our past. 
We drove from Sligo to Monaghan along the scenic route, a narrow winding road that led us past several lakes and through idyllic countryside. Ireland is dotted with small farms and houses, but all of them are on roads that lead to main roads, even if they have what appear to be rural locations. You can be certain that you will eventually meet a main road even if you think that you are lost in the middle of nowhere. Once we got to Monaghan, the search began for the Castle Leslie Estate in Glaslough, County Monaghan. My husband had seen a culinary program on the National Geographic or Discovery channel that included the Castle Leslie, and his interest (and mine) were piqued. So I checked it out on google, and sure enough, you could book an overnight stay as well as your wedding reception if so inclined (this is where Paul McCartney and Heather Mills got married and had their wedding reception, as we discovered). The Leslie family own the 1000 acres that make up the property, and have renovated the 'castle' so that it can house paying guests. I had booked the 'Green Room', which had been the room of Sir John Leslie, as we later found out. This room overlooked the lake on the property and had a fairly complete view of the surroundings. Before dinner, we took a walk around half of the lake, meeting horseback riders as we ambled. After dinner, we had coffee in the garden with the fountain, and then walked down to the lake's edge to look at the lake and the boathouse. Fishing is allowed, so boat rental is not a problem as long as you know how to operate the rowboats. There were a lot of pike in the lake, some quite large as we saw from the photos of one man who had caught a few of them. It’s hard to describe how lovely this place really is; you have to experience it. It is definitely a place to stay for couples who want to get away from the stresses of the modern world and relax, if only for a few days. There are no TVs in any of the rooms, and the entire place has a calming effect upon the soul—no stress, no worries, no hustle and bustle. Just peace and serenity.
The following day, we drove back to Dublin and spent the afternoon relaxing, before we found another charming pub where we ate shepherd’s pie and drank a few beers. The food in most of the pubs is very good, from shepherd’s pie to beef stew (with Guinness beer in it) to hamburgers. I love it all. It reminds me of some of the food I ate growing up, since my mother made shepherd’s pie and excellent beef stews.
We then made the trip home, taking the ferry from Dublin to Holyhead, the ferry from Hull to Rotterdam, and then driving to Frederikshavn in Denmark (instead of to Kiel), so that we could get the day ferry to Oslo. The trip went as planned, with no hitches, and it was a good to know that there still exist car ferries that will take you to England and Ireland from mainland Europe. It’s also possible to drive through the Eurotunnel (the Channel tunnel) from France to England, which we did a few years ago. It’s nice to have your own car with you, as we’ve discovered, rather than renting one, which of course can also be an option if you want to drive around Europe as we enjoy doing. Perhaps in a few years, we will be traveling through Europe in an RV; it’s something we’re talking about. But for now, it’s good to be traveling the way we do; we learn as we go, and tackle new challenges and experiences as well. Some photos will follow in my next posts.......


Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Link to a beautiful short story--Road of Souls--by PJ Curtis

I read a beautiful short story last night by the Irish writer and broadcaster PJ Curtis, called Road of Souls. It was printed in the latest book I'm reading, entitled Burning the Midnight Oil: Illuminating Words for the Long Night's Journey Into Day by Phil Cousineau (https://www.amazon.com/Burning-Midnight-Oil-Illuminating-Journey/dp/1936740737). In this book, the short story is entitled The Last Prince of Thomond (not Road of Souls); it was apparently first printed in a book entitled The Music of Ghosts. I went online to try to find the short story printed for itself alone so I could share it with  you here, and found it at the Clare County Library in Ireland. Unfortunately I cannot print the entire story here because it would be copyright infringement. But I can include a link to the webpage with the story on the Clare County Library website:

http://www.clarelibrary.ie/eolas/coclare/literature/ncww/road_of_souls.htm



Thursday, September 5, 2013

A beautiful poem by the Irish poet Seamus Heaney

The Blackbird of Glanmore

On the grass when I arrive,
Filling the stillness with life,
But ready to scare off
At the very first wrong move,
In the ivy when I leave,

It's you, blackbird, I love.

I park, pause, take heed.
Breathe. Just breathe and sit
And lines I once translated
Come back: 'I want away
To the house of death, to my father

Under the low clay roof.'

And I think of one gone to him,
A little stillness dancer -
Haunter-son, lost brother -
Cavorting through the yard,
So glad to see me home,

My homesick first term over.

And think of a neighbour's words
Long after the accident;
'Yon bird on the shed roof,
Up on the ridge for weeks -
I said nothing at the time

But I never liked yon bird'

The automatic lock
Clunks shut, the blackbird's panic
Is shortlived, for a second
I've a bird's eye view of myself,
A shadow on raked gravel

In front of my house of life.

Hedge-hop, I am absolute
For you, your ready talkback,
Your each stand-offish comeback,
Your picky, nervy goldbeak -
On the grass when I arrive,

In the ivy when I leave.
---------------------------------------


Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Dublin views

Riverdance at The Gaiety Theatre
Flower market
A Dublin street with very old row houses


Wall art



Blowing bubbles on Grafton Street

The Old Storehouse bar and restaurant in Temple Bar area
The Yeats exhibition at the National Library of Ireland
Oscar Wilde statue in Merrion Square park

Thursday, July 7, 2011

A New Yorker in Dublin

So many impressions of Ireland and of Dublin—here are a few. The Irish are an unpretentious folk, friendly, with a pleasant sense of humor. It actually felt 'familiar' to be there, because it reminded me of some of the residential areas around New York City--the Irish neighborhoods. Not surprising since the Irish who immigrated to the USA settled in and around the city. I felt as though I fit in with the culture and that didn’t surprise me either, because I grew up in the New York City area and because my mother was of Irish ancestry (as well as of English and Scottish ancestry). The people don’t seem to get too excited or stressed or angry. I cannot remember that we heard much yelling or cursing or that we saw angry people yelling or screaming at the world around them. There were a few beggars who sat in the streets hoping for some change. I ate Irish food each night—fish and chips, bangers and mash (pork sausages and mashed potatoes—delicious), and Irish stew. Didn’t get a chance to sample shepherd’s pie, but my mother used to make that and Irish stew as a matter of course especially during the cold winter months. So I knew what to expect and I wasn’t disappointed. And the beer was good. I am not a beer drinker, but I enjoyed the Guinness beer and the tour of the brewery that makes it.

We made our way to two interesting library exhibitions: the first was about the famous Irish poet William Butler Yeats (my favorite poet)--‘ The Life and Works of William Butler Yeats’ that took place at the National Library of Ireland http://www.nli.ie/en/udlist/current-exhibitions.aspx?article=adb6ce52-1f52-4a33-882c-685dedd0fb9d and http://www.nli.ie/yeats/ (virtual tour). It was a fascinating collection of his manuscripts, photo albums and books and told the story of his life in an effective and moving way. The second exhibition was The Book of Kells at Trinity College library, with a trip at the end of the tour to the second floor of the library to visit the Long Room—a fantastic room lined with marble busts of ancient philosophers, writers and medical scientists as well as with ancient books from floor to ceiling, of course off-limits to the public. The Book of Kells was fascinating—an amazing book put together by scribes and illustrators and holy men. I have a new appreciation for libraries and the incredible work that goes into creating these exhibitions. They do such a good job.

We also enjoyed the Temple Bar area in the evening with its many pubs with live music and dancing. We spent one evening at The Old Storehouse and enjoyed a good meal and live music—a duo—a young female violinist and a male guitarist. The woman sang and the two of them were terrific, performing traditional Irish folk songs as well as some American songs. Many of the singers in the different pubs seemed to have a fascination with Johnny Cash and Bruce Springsteen. I really enjoyed the Irish folk songs, e.g. Wild Rover comes to mind, a classic song that seemed to be a real crowd-pleaser; the public clapped and sang along as though they knew the song by heart, which they probably did.

Dubliners are not much different than other Western Europeans when it comes to walking on city sidewalks; there is only a halfhearted attempt at staying to one side of the sidewalk in an orderly fashion. Pedestrians spread out all over. You bump into them when you meet them. Everyone says excuse me and all that, but it would be easier to walk if there were ‘lanes’ like if we were driving cars on the highway. But it isn’t much better in Manhattan, except that people tend to be a bit more proactive in terms of moving to the right side of the sidewalk when they see folk coming. Dubliners also flock to cafes and outdoor restaurants to enjoy the lovely sunny weather when it arrives (sporadically), just like Oslo city dwellers. Of course there were a lot of tourists there now at this time of year, but a good number of them were Irish (we could hear the accent), in addition to the French and Italian visitors.

I will be posting some Dublin photos in upcoming posts. It is a lovely city with interesting storefronts and clever names for its many shops and pubs, as well as versatile architecture—very old or modern. Both seem to work. I’m glad I got to see the city, and I know already I will be going back.

Pangur Bán--an eighth century poem written by an Irish monk

I and Pangur Bán, my cat
'Tis a like task we are at;
Hunting mice is his delight
Hunting words I sit all night.

Better far than praise of men
'Tis to sit with book and pen;
Pangur bears me no ill will,
He too plies his simple skill.

'Tis a merry thing to see
At our tasks how glad are we,
When at home we sit and find
Entertainment to our mind.

Oftentimes a mouse will stray
In the hero Pangur's way:
Oftentimes my keen thought set
Takes a meaning in its net.

'Gainst the wall he sets his eye
Full and fierce and sharp and sly;
'Gainst the wall of knowledge I
All my little wisdom try.

When a mouse darts from its den,
O how glad is Pangur then!
O what gladness do I prove
When I solve the doubts I love!

So in peace our tasks we ply,
Pangur Bán, my cat, and I;
In our arts we find our bliss,
I have mine and he has his.

Practice every day has made
Pangur perfect in his trade;
I get wisdom day and night
Turning darkness into light.


(Written by an eighth-century Irish monk--name unknown. English translation by Robin Flower)

I read this poem for the first time when we visited The Book of Kells exhibition at the Trinity College library. It spoke to me as a lot of poetry does. I could just see in my mind's eye, the monk toiling away in the darkness while his cat hunted mice. The monk could have been working on one of the books of Kells, transcribing or illustrating them. And then the symbolic last sentence, 'Turning darkness into light'. There is so much that he says in this one little sentence--isn't this the whole basis of religion and our belief in a supreme being? That if we accept God into our lives, that this God turns our darkness into light? But I also think about this monk's place and time in history--the medieval times. Dark times. Perhaps he understood his role in turning the minds of his fellowmen toward the light; he perhaps understood his small and simple role in history. It must have been a profound moment for him when he wrote this--a kind of simple divine inspiration. 

A great Irish pub song---Wild Rover

I've been a wild rover for many's the year,
and I spent all me money on whiskey and beer.
And now I'm returning with gold in great store,
and I never will play the wild rover no more.

(Chorus):
And it's no, nay, never! No, nay, never, no more,
will I play the wild rover. No (nay) never no more!

I went to an alehouse I used to frequent,
and I told the landlady me money was spent.
I asked her for credit, she answered me "nay,
such a custom as yours I could have any day".

(Chorus)

I pulled from me pocket a handful of gold,
and on the round table it glittered and rolled.
She said "I have whiskeys and wines of the best,
and the words that I told you were only in jest".

(Chorus)

I'll have none of your whiskeys nor fine Spanish wines,
For your words show you clearly as no friend of mine.
There's others most willing to open a door,
To a man coming home from a far distant shore.

(Chorus)

I'll go home to me parents, confess what I've done,
and I'll ask them to pardon their prodigal son.
And if they forgive me as oft times before,
I never will play the wild rover no more.

(Chorus)
----------------------------

It’s not clear who wrote the song, but it’s a lot of fun to sing along to, and in every pub we visited in Dublin in the Temple Bar area, there were singers performing this song. It seems to be a great crowd-pleaser. 

Interesting viewpoint from Charles Bukowski

Charles Bukowski wrote this poem about rising early versus sleeping late..... Throwing Away the Alarm Clock my father always said, “early to...