Mother

Album cover art for "Mother" by Seamus Heaney

Seamus Heaney - Pop

Mother

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Lyrics

As I work the pump, the wind heavy With spits of rain is fraying The rope of water I'm pumping It pays itself out like air's afterbirth At each gulp of the plunger I am tired of the feeding of stock Each evening I labour this handle Half an hour at a time, the cows Guzzling at bowls in the byre Before I have topped up the level They lower it down They've trailed in again By the readymade gate He stuck into the fence: a jingling bedhead Wired up between posts. It's on its last legs It does not jingle for joy any more I am tired of walking about with this plunger Inside me. God, he plays like a young calf Gone wild on a rope Lying or standing won't settle these capers This gulp in my well O when I am a gate for myself Let such wind fray my waters As scarfs my skirt through my thighs Stuffs air down my throat

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Credits

Writers
  • Seamus Heaney