SEAMUS HEANEY
Under vario us names, I have praised only you , ri ve rs'
You are milk and honey and love and death and dance.
From a spring in hidd en grottoes, seeping fi·om mossy rocks
Where a goddess po urs live wa ter from a pi tcher,
At cl ear streams in th e meadow, wh ere rills murmur underground ,
Your ra ce and m y race begin , and amazement, and qui ck passage.
N aked , I exposed m y face to th e sun , steerin g w ith hardly a dip of
th e paddl e-
O ak woods, fiel ds, a pin e fores t skimmin g by,
Around every bend th e promi se of th e ea rth ,
Village smoke, sleepy herds, fli ghts of marti ns ove r sandy blufTs.
I entered yo ur wa ters slowly, step by step,
And th e current in that sil ence took me by th e kn ees
Until it surrendered and it ca rri ed me and I swam
Through th e huge refl ected sky o f a triumphant noon.
I was on yo ur banks at th e onset of midsummer ni ght
When th e full moon rolls o ut and
Ii
ps to uch in the ri tuals of
ki ssing-
I hear in m ysel f, now as th en, th e lapping of wa ter by th e
boath ouse
And th e whi sper that calls me in fo r an embrace and fo r
consolatio n .
We go down w ith th e bells ringing in all the sunken citi es.
Fo rgotten, we are greeted by th e embassies of th e dead,
Whil e your endless fl owing ca rries us o n and on;
And neither is no r was. T he moment onl y, etern al.
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