I walked today on the cold grey shore where I watched when I was much younger while they built the dunes upon the sand for the dead from the Great Hunger for the dead from the Great Hunger.
Although I was a doctor's son I gazed in fear and wonder as they perished from the raging plague that came in from the Great Hunger that came in from the Great Hunger.
When I watched at the age of four in Eighteen Forty Seven the mounds they built upon the shore. They seemed to point to heaven they seemed to point to heaven.
But the wind and the rain they have worked away. Now the dunes are uneven and the children kick the sand around and the bones they are revealed then and the bones they are revealed then.
My brothers and sisters died. My mother only four and twenty and I alone survived to see the potatoes grow in plenty the potatoes grow in plenty.
They stole our grain as we died in pain to put upon their tables. The dying covered the dead with sand and danced while they were able and danced while they were able.
While the fiddler played we drank poitin and ate the last of the berries. Then knelt and said the rosary round the mounds of dead we'd buried round the mounds of dead we'd buried.
I saw dark shadows rise up from the sand and dance all around the dunes and they danced the rattling dance of the dead to a set of mournful tunes to a set of mournful tunes. A crack of lightening split the sky. The rain on the dunes it poured. I left them lying where I shot them down the bailiff and the landlord. Then I went for a drink in Westport.
I walked today on the cold grey shore where I watched when I was much younger while they built the dunes upon the sand for the dead from the Great Hunger for the dead from the Great Hunger.