The birds sang in the wet trees
And I listened to them it was a hundred years from now
And I was dead and someone else was listening to them.
But I was glad I had recorded for him
The melancholy.
(Patrick Kavanagh)
More Poetry from Patrick Kavanagh:
- Having To Live in the Country (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
- On An Apple-Ripe September Morning (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
- On Raglan Road (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
- April Dusk (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
- March (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)
- Innocence (Patrick Kavanagh Poems)