This is a poem I wrote for one of my favourite poets, Michael Hartnett, Míchéal Ó hÁirtnéide, of Newcastlewest, Co.Limerick. He wrote in Irish (Gaelic) and English and loved the haiku form as well. He had a book of poems called "A necklace of wrens" and he always reminded me in a way of that bird.
Epilogue
for Michael Hartnett
Like a wren he was,
bright and quick and brown,
head angled to miss no trick.
Hair like down
brushed, feathered
around the black bird
eyes. And what
a sound we heard
from that almost-elusive
wren-poet,
half-hidden,
giving full throat
to all he saw or felt
we missed. For any
naturalist of song
to hear. And he
flits among the brambles
of our thoughts. His song
caught, hedged `round,
a sound that proves them wrong.
A friend sent me this computerised version of the above poem, after it the original had been put through various translation programmes, beginning with Chinese, then to Arabic, then Russian, after that to Vietnamese and finally back to English! It shows what a deep poet I actually am!! That is, I haven't a clue what it now means, so it must be really good! See what you think - maybe you prefer it to the "original"!
Am quick and brown,
Chairman of the cornerstone of any loss of a trick.
Such as hair down
The down feathers
The black birds
Eyes. What
Sound heard
Close to the elusive
Wren among poets,
Half-hidden,
They and throat
For all that he saw or heard
Lost. Any
Songs of nature
Hearing. And
Fly between Eleq
Think of us. Song
Trapped ", included in the tour,
Sufficient to show that they are wrong
