Éire
an Acronym
To Reggy
Yielding no comfort the castle she inhabits stands alone
On a cold northern island beneath clouds.
Unleashed winds blow from the sea against her window
As she combs her hair for hours with no end
Revisiting in secret a time when she was loved,
Evoking happy hours of desire and joy.
Married too young and haughty, now forsaken,
Yearning for a different dawn as her dreams
ebb away and awake her to a colourless day
The lady endures the dullness of a life without sense.
Entrapped, her heart is breaking were it not for the love
Reborn at every breath for her most cherished son:
Near him there is glory to be had on this earth.
Advancing through the courtyard in his rich-coloured suit
Like an odd summer morning beneath a clear sky
She observes with how much dignity he goes about his fate
-Oblivious of the danger life may set around him-
Never wanting to lose him, she sees him ride away.
‘Jo, la belle irlandaise’, Gustave Courbet. Stockholm National Museum



Christina, I got such goosebumps at the end. So, so moving.