Does it has an animals mouth?
This hill on Beara’s lovely south?
It sounds like a mountain full of greed,
as if in a perment need for feed.
And if a hiker ever dare,
to tread this grounds without a care,
he will be devoured and transformed in a gnome,
who will be – then – possessed by the stone.
I can’t believe, Hungry Hill likes to munch
on tenacious human lifes for lunch.
What gave this heap of stone that name?
Was it ignorance or just – it’s fame?
It sounds as if gangs of robbers lived here.
Or tenants vegetated in a permanent fear.
Or did people once died of starvation
in the times of the great migration?
When the potato blight took over the crop –
a disaster no one knew how to stop!
Or was it an english mans translation fault,
who eradicated all names, the Irish called?
The English gave – without any sense and brain,
everything and everybody a new name.
Despite all my gloomy consideration,
I feel quite an uplifting elation:
I intend to walk that hill,
might get my own impressions and my fill!
Might find a dragon lair with treasures,
will help myself to gold and jewelry beyond all measures,
will have provisions of food and drink!
And in the evening I might sink,
after a long and exhausting day
of this demanding outdoor stay,
knackered but happy in my chair,
and might think different about that mountain fair.
©Sabine van de Sand, 2016-04-07