Had I seen the ghosts of this place

They would dance their victory dance;

Glorious vale

Cup, chalice,


The glacial streams

Empty into that lake

Quiet, ever so silent,

Rippling lyre, reflection;

Snows and rocks frame it —

I have no words

Only emotions

Which boil and rise

With the thunder of horses,

The sound of stick

And ball thudding

Across the turf;

The ghosts of this place,

Had I but seen them,

Pale as the snow

Cold as the lake

As vivid as the night-fires

That light the valley;

The whistle of wind

The throb of drum

The chant of song


Had I seen the ghosts dance

Their victory dance….


(Omer Tarin, from 'A Sad Piper' 1994)