Well, here's a new poem. I said this would happen.
In the Country
The castle has gone
from the sides of the river,
it cannot be replaced.
Caressed by wind and rain
and buffeted by storm
the castle has gone
from the sides of the river.
The Gaelic has gone
from the sides of the river,
unvisited by people
the Gaelic has gone,
and cannot be replaced.
The church, the aristocracy,
always guard the people.
Gone are the Gaelic and castle
and gone is the railway line.
And in their place
are memories like mine.
Sally Evans
(note: we say "the Gaelic" for the old language - and a tory has just
knocked down the caste in which William Wallace was born. Scottish Heritage
are furious because you can't just knock castles down without permission.
Also the church was largely ressponsible for the decline in Gaelic,
historically. So were the schools, later. These things would be known by
readers in Scotland for whom this poem is really meant. But you're welcome
to see if you like it)
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