Despite my Anglo-Saxon pseudonym and research interests, I am an American of partly Irish descent. (Sie müssen alle schätzen, wo mein anderes Erbe liegt.) I'm pretty committed to that heritage, too. I have even dangled upside down to kiss the battlements of this very tall castle, while being "secured" from falling to certain death by a local pensioner with his hand on my waist. So, today this blog will take a break from its Anglo-Saxon yet anti-patriarchal leanings to celebrate St. Patrick's Day.
I leave you with two bits of literature to contemplate.
The Irish Dancer (14th century English)
ICH am of Irlaunde,
Ant of the holy londe
Of Irlande.
Gode sire, pray ich the,
For of saynte charité,
Come ant daunce wyth me
In Irlaunde.
My Favorite Irish Blessing ( I have no idea about times for this one)
May those who love us love us.
And those that don't love us,
May God turn their hearts.
And if He doesn't turn their hearts,
May He turn their ankles,
So we can know them by their limping.
3 comments:
I have way more Irish envy than I have Irish ancestry. I'm pretty much English/French Huguenot/German, with a few Scots thrown in. But for whatever reason, I am thoroughly enchanted by the Emerald Isle and what it has produced, and I also kissed the Blarney Stone.
Holly,
So, what you're saying is that you also burst into flames when exposed to direct sunlight?
Hardly that, since I was born and raised in southern Arizona. Must have been some mystical charm protecting me all those years....
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