Literature Poems around the May Pole

John Millington Synge

During this month we are presenting the poems of Sasha Dee creatively written on the themes of the International Literatures.

The first is written on the One Act Play Riders to the Sea written by playwright Synge. He was born in 1871 and died in 1909

Synge’s writings are mainly concerned with the world of the Roman Catholic peasants of rural Ireland and with what he saw as the essential paganism of their world view. Synge belonged to the irish literary renaissance and was a founding member of the “Irish National Theatre” along with W.B.Yeats and Lady Gregory.

His writing influenced later Irish writers like Samuel Burckett. His plays were always basic tools of teaching Drama and Theatre in the Drama schools.

In the “Riders to the Sea” Synge subtle way showed natural disasters like the Sea are far too superior to the Catholicism and Irish Folk cultures. This gave the Irish Nationalists at the beginning of the twentieth century a cause for the heavy criticism on his literatures and plays.

The play “Riders to the Sea” presents the cruelty of the sea against the human beings and a mother’s helpless lamenting.

Sasha Dee’s poem cleverly presents lamentation of a mother, might of the sea and also the Irish superstation. This poem is tribute to a great Irish Writer Synge



Riders to the Sea

By Sasha Dee

Maurya’s Lamentation:

The sea has no heart but just a huge dark hole!

A mother’s spirit will not be able to R.I.P.

On Cyningdõm day, angels will abandon my soul

One Daughter:
Mum they say, “they see an eerie banshee!

Always wandering around on the sea

Struggling to reach the shore but drowning!”


Whenever the wretched devil is roaring,
Bartley, be wary, hear, do not go to the seas

A mother’s heart is already torn to pieces

Her five sons, the ogre sea has eaten alive

All my sons! Months of care and love I gave
Your father and his father too were wasted:

The sea has no heart but just a huge dark hole

A mother’s spirit will not be able to R.I.P.

Cyningdõm day, angels will abandon my soul

Daughters’ agaony:

Mum they found a cadaver on the seashore actual

Bartley went to sell the horse ’cause we’d no victuals




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