Ireland, 1846


To know me, you must know the song of the raging sea.
You must be able to keep tune with it,
To put reins on the fury of the waters,
And to bid it to do your will.

To know me, you must know the softness of emerald hills.
You must feel each blade of grass,
And tickle your fingertips with the gentle sharpness of the pastures.
Let nature sing to you a lullaby.

To know me, you must know the heartache of famine.
You must befriend the pangs of hunger that strike you through the chest,
For to know me,
You must also know that the hunger will never leave you.

To know me, you must embrace the dream of another life.
Your fingers must dance across the moon and stars,
Reaching for something that maybe your children
Will finally be able to grasp.

To know me, you must know that I am the daughter of the seas,
And of the rolling grassy slopes,
And of a violent unceasing hunger..
But most of all,
I am a child of dreams.

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