In January In Duhallow
The cold winds of January from the north east does blow
And the weather is cold quite cold enough for to snow
And the hungry birds silent on the naked hedgerow
In the flat and rushy fields where the Blackwater flow.
January in Duhallow from here far away
In the chill of the morning the frost bound fields gray
In the farmyard sheds cattle bellow for silage or hay
Where the sun seldom shines on a January day.
The distinctive harsh caws of the silver backed crow
In the Season where grass does refuse for to grow
And few cars on the roadway that leads to the town
Near where the river flows bank high in flood waters of brown.
In January in Duhallow the old fields looking bare
With the harsh chill of Winter in the cold Morning air
And at least eight long weeks till the first breath of Spring
When Nature will bloom and her wild birds will sing.
Francis Duggan's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (In January In Duhallow by Francis Duggan )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
William Ernest Henley
- Preposterous, Alem Hailu Gabre Kristos
- The Little Wood, Ruth Manning-Sanders
- The Moral Roundabout, Ruth Manning-Sanders
- The Old Wheelwright, Ruth Manning-Sanders
- The Idiot Girl, Ruth Manning-Sanders
- All the Steps, John Taggart
- Heimdall, Ruth Manning-Sanders
- Orange Berries Dark Green Leaves, John Taggart
- Horses To Market, Ruth Manning-Sanders
- Foreign Wife Elegy, Yuko Taniguchi