The death of Seamus Heaney has been announced, aged 74.
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It isn't given us to know those rare moments when people are wide open and the lightest touch can wither or heal. A moment too late and we can never reach them any more in this world. -
Gosh. What a loss. Can't quite get my head round his absence yet...
"...the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices..."
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Very sad!Originally posted by french frank View Post
We had a massive blackberry-picking session on our allotments last week, and I kept thinking of this:
Blackberry-Picking
Late August, given heavy rain and sun
For a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
Among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
Picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
Sent us out with milk cans, pea tins, jam-pots
Where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
We trekked and picked until the cans were full
Until the tinkling bottom had been covered
With green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
Like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
With thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
The fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair
That all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.Comment
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He does seem to have been one of the indisputably great figures moving among us still, internationally recognised. An achievement these days for a serious poet.Originally posted by Caliban View PostGosh. What a loss. Can't quite get my head round his absence yet...
It isn't given us to know those rare moments when people are wide open and the lightest touch can wither or heal. A moment too late and we can never reach them any more in this world.Comment
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Indeed. And 74 is no age.Originally posted by french frank View Post
[FONT=Comic Sans MS][I][B]Numquam Satis![/B][/I][/FONT]Comment
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I was genuninely shocked, one of my favourites. His words did seem to talk directly to so many people, what a sad loss.Comment
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I read it here first.
I wish I could let you into a confidence or two, but, though I knew him slightly at school I have spent a lifetime trying to know the man.
There is a poem, not well known, from which, when I find it, I'll quote a bit for you. It is one of the few instances where Seamus Heaney and I are in the same place.
I'll go now and read what they all are saying.Comment
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RIP Mr Heaney.Comment
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No, I won't do what I said. Sorry. The poem is The Real Names, from Electric Light, 2001.
Parts of it mention the real names of boys I knew at school and plays they and I were in in 1953/4. Heaney would have seen those plays and would have known those boys. All I'll say is that reading the poem again I'm back there as if it were yesterday, and so was he.
There is a tremendous sense of shock and loss here. Be prepared for a huge demonstration.
I missed a chance to go and see The Piper and the Poet just a mere two weeks ago. It was booked out.
There's the lad I knew.
Last edited by Padraig; 30-08-13, 18:04.Comment
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They're talking about him on Front Row now.Comment
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The radio on the way home had magically switched itself to Radio 4.... I was very glad to hear it.Originally posted by jean View Post
"...the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices..."
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I am disappointed to find that this programme is not yet available on iPlayer. Later then.Originally posted by jean View Post
On enquiring how the concert The Poet and the Piper went a fortnight ago, I found out that the Poet was not too well even then. The programme was curtailed somewhat as far as the poetry was concerned, and the Piper took up the slack. People noticed and some commented on Heaney's general appearance. One lady who wanted an autograph was told to her dismay that the Poet might not be fit after the show, and so it turned out. Seamus Heaney was to be the star attraction at a festival next month in Magherafelt - a town that loved him so well, and was often referred to in his poems.Comment
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Thank you, jean. Lovely programme - some old voices there - all of them striving for the apt quotation and succeeding admirably.Originally posted by jean View Post
I give you Album from Human Chain 2010.
'' Too late, alas, now for the apt quotation
About a love that's proved by steady gazing
Not at each other but in the same direction.''Comment
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As I said elsewhere on these boards, when word came that the President of Ireland was visiting Iona to celebrate 1450 since the arrival of Columcille on the island, the talk of the Spar was that Seamus was coming too. Sadly, it was not to be as he was too ill to travel...he would have been the sweetest icing on what proved to be a delicious cake. I'm so sad to hear of his passing. Radio 4 Poetry Please is set aside to honour the great man tomorrow.
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