Aer na hÉireann [Irish Air]
“Aernahéireann” they do call me,
The Island’s breath I spend
And give all lives that live beneath me
A base to rise and sing and fly
And fall and drown and choke and cry,
But even if it seems that I
(And not just seems since this is true)
Have such an oppositional temper;
Yet, my mind is moderate.
My meat is moist and dense and fruitful,
And gently hearts at their first bite
Might feel depressed thanks to my weight
But if they stay under my wings
My call, it brings their inner strength
I seem to be quite harsh and hard
And souls that are regaled with sun
And molly-coddled views of art
Just see me as a stringent master
Who scolds his scholars
But those who know, love and regard me
They know the warmth of my embracement.
They know the goodness of my gifts
They value that I’m soft AND keen!
And know my heart holds in itself
A seed of mossy green.