HIRAETH by Nicholas Mcgaughey

“The English don’t understand

The meaning of hiraeth!”

My uncle declared,

In Welsh more sung than spoken,

His eyes dewy as Avalon,

Invoking Gwalia

As the promised land.

 

I feel no longing,

Sucked between hills,

Its rivers my blood

Its stone my skin,

Its loam my sinew,

Its tongue my strength,

And hiraeth

Paraded as this truth.

 

My heart cartwheels

When I flaunt brogues, kid gloves…

And tally-ho!

Across the bridge in a spindled tourer….

And ring the bell

At Berkeley Square.


Nicholas Mcgaughey is an actor with work forthcoming in Poetry Salzburg Review, Envoi, A New Ulster, Sarasvati, and Dusk Anthology.

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