At Gleannagalt
Doireann Ní Ghríofa
When the moon clambers her dark ladder
into the loft, I stumble a chestnut path,
dropped cobbles, brown knots.

Twigs grip tangles grip twigs;
moonlit fern-fingers beckon
to where the valley winks,

and when I kneel to the well's sunken eye,
the cure looks back,
but those blue eyes aren't mine.




Gleann na nGealt

Nuair a dhreapann gealach na gcoinleach
an dréimire dorcha go barr na hoíche,

is garbh iad na géaga
a scuabann mo chuid gruaige.

Ligeann méara glasa an chreamha
eolas na slí liom. Na cnónna sleamhna tharam,

cromaim ag an tobar.
An leigheas, bronntar,

ach is dústrainséartha an tsúil a stánann
ar ais orm. Súil fhuar. Súil ghorm.
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Celebrate National Poetry Month with Our Readers

For National Poetry Month this year, Poetry Daily decided to turn the spotlight on readers of poetry: who we know are especially important, who, through the power of their attention, collaborate in the making of a poem’s meaning and worth.  Which poem, we asked all of you—in our current archive of more than two thousand poems featured on the site since it moved to George Mason University in 2018—made you think, surprised you, moved you, or changed your world just a little? 
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Color portrait of Charlotte Bronte
"On Publishing Charlotte Brontë’s Miniature Book of Poems for the First Time"

"Charlotte was very serious, as we can see in the manuscript of A Book of Ryhmes. It is likely she set out to make fair copies of verses she had already composed but, despite her best intentions, she did what every poet has done over the centuries, and made alterations and corrections. Her fair copy is marred by these changes, but she must have decided it was better to improve upon her verse than simply make it look good."

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