Roland Robinson,was born in Country Clare, Ireland in 1912. At the age of 9, in 1921 was brought to Australia. After only a brief education he worked in various jobs, mainly in the bush as a roustabout, boundary-rider, railway fettler, fencer, dam-builder, gardener and as a life long love - a ballet dancer.
Robinson's first published poetry appeared in Beyond the Grass-Tree Spears published in 1944. He served in the Australian Army. His love of the Australian landscape and everyday scenes were inspiration for his poetry. He was one of the most dedicated poets to the Jindyworobak Movement.
As a writer and poet Roland Robinson was dance critic for The Sydney Morning ... more »
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Roland Robinson Poems
From the hollow trees in their native home them old fellows cut the honeycomb. On honey and little white grubs they fed,
The Sermon of the Birds
I was clearing thirty or forty acres once Out in the western range near Nightcap Mountain. And as I was working, I heard a gathering of the crows
Over the plains of the whitening grass and the stunted mulga the drovers pass, and in the red dust cloud, each side of the cattle, the native stockmen ride.
The Ruined Homestead
White birds, frightened from silver grass, whose blood-rose breasts and wings are thrown like petals settling down the pass,
Comments about Roland Robinson
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
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Edgar Allan Poe
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(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
From the hollow trees in their native home
them old fellows cut the honeycomb.
On honey and little white grubs they fed,
'cause them young bees was blackfeller's bread.
That's why they was so mighty and strong
in their native home in Currarong.
An' them old fellers' drink was honey-bul;
honey and water, a coolamon full.
Naked through the bush they went,
an' never knew what sickness meant,
them native bees could do you no harm,
they'd crawl all over your honey-smeared arm.
But them Eyetalian bees, they'd bung
your eyes right up. When we was young