{"id":19029,"content":"\n\n\n\nStars are falling with the first north wind，\nInto broad water clear and white.\nRoisín kneels upon the glimmering sand,\nthe great mirror before her eyes.\n\nShe washes her face laden with tears,\ndark bushes of fear on her cheek.\nLong autumn night drenches her flaxen hair,\nrain and earth covers her feet.\n\n“Seven horsemen were sent to fetch me,\nthey now roam the fields and glens\ndoors in my native town are shut everywhere,\npriest’s gown blacker than a raven”\n\nShe cries while the wind blows its bagpipe\nharsher are its lamenting tunes.\nlights dancing and flickering, embracing in sadness\nas the river gently hums.\n\n“Your parents are good people I know,\nbut good is good for nothing.\nI who rises in the land of O’Rourke\nwho once met great Conn and Medb.”\n\n“The seven loughs are my lace of pearl\nBromore my fair temple.\nExiles sigh to flower of foams on my hair\nsoldiers sleep of my chest.”\n\n“I am the queen, of the mirror’s other side\nto where I know you are always bound.\nDon’t grieve, for your body or your soul,\nbecause you’ll be my own bride.”\n\n“Bring you a piece of reed and bend it around,\ntide of snowy stars are rushing in.\ntie a knot and wear it on your finger,\ndread no more, the light soft and sound.”\n\nSweet Roisín rises and stumbles five steps forth, \nWhen the winds still shriek and groan.\nStars caress her as water whirls beside her\nThe ring turns silver like the dawn.\n\n\n\n","submitter":"Tam Huynh","date":"Nov 18, 2024"}