She sits there saying nothing
A wee woman and her wains
We know not who she is
That sits there with her bains
As the Scots would say if seeing
What my father claims to have seen
That sitting on a wall
In broad daylight had been...
Going to the workhouse
Stopping for a rest a while
A woman and two little ones
And one of the three smile
But just sitting there
A word by none was said
My father knew from famine times there were
Victims of, and dead
The dead will not harm you
Sometimes themselves they show
So another at another time
Of their pain will know.
Maybe twas too much poitin
Da knew how to make it pure
And enjoyed his brew testing
But I am not so sure.
If dead they be, from famine times
And they to show themselves cease
I hope they rest at the bosom of Mary
And their souls now know peace.
Glossary:
(i) wain: child
(ii) bain (baby)
Again Willie Cartys farm is the focus of the poem "Sitting There Saying Nothing".
The ghost poem that tells of how my father swears he saw ghosts at a cousins farm he inherited, of a woman and her children who died outside the gate on the way to the workhouse...
My family, though Irish, were none too helpful to the poor at the time, I gather from family legends...
