Ogham poem: Uillend/The elbow
Please read and enjoy the work of a amazing writer.
See the stalwart oak in the winter gale:
Even it bends, a great elbow naked
to the shoulder, to the foot, to the root.
Who are we to be so unchanging?
The honeysuckle is not deterred
by fences ingeniously constructed.
The golden spiral is methodical
and methodless, unchanged and adapting.
Spiral by spiral, it tackles the fence
as the weak spiral out of the strong’s path
with the sweep of a foot like a compass
and so the tower topples to the ground.
The sword breaks when it clashes with the stick.
The woodbine in the fragrant wood cares not
for the foot that tramples, even the shears:
The spirals underground will grow it back.
The roots of the ivy shall crack the stone.
The heady perfume on the winter wind
foretells the juicy forest of springtime
the honeyed flowers over the toppled
corpse…
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Nice photo 2. Smell so sweet.
Translated from french “Chèvre-feuille” aka “Goat leaf” because goats like the leaves so much 😉
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