Who could this be, and where?
And what might have caught the attention of
this still unravish'd bride of quietness,
this foster child of stillness and slow time?
Could it have been the Uilleann pipes, played by Kevin Rowsome?
And could it have been at the Irish Embassy,
while listening to him accompany Philip McDonagh
as he read some of his stunning new poems?
You have all got a copy of The Song the Oriole Sang, of course?
If not, you can buy it now in parallel English and Russian texts
in all good bookshops in Moscow.
I could not recommend it too highly.
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