Croppy Boys

Croppy Boys

Memory of Seamus Heaney.
13 Aril 1939 - 30 Août 2013

We were dancing at the crossroads,
To the fiddler’s magic tunes;
The same place that they gathered,
For the Rising of the Moon:
The music made us all forget,
Those thoughts inside our head,
It was same place that they hung them…..
Our Croppy Boys are dead.

They shook their scythes at cannon,
In that futile dance of death;
While overhead the Wild Geese flew,
To find more sheltered nests,
The seanchaí told stories,
Of how once these fields ran red;
Now crops grow on their resting place…
Our Croppy Boys are dead.

Croppy Boys in the Irish 1798 Rebellion, were given that name because they cropped their hair like the peasants in the French Revolution of 1789.

JC 2014 © (Löst Viking) https://www.facebook.com/pages/Löst-Viking/746104845419195