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- Join over 1.2 million students every month - Accelerate your learning by 29% - Unlimited access from just £6.99 per month Poetry analysis of Mid-Term break by Seamus Heaney. Extracts from this document... Introduction Mid-term Break by Seamus Heaney I sat all morning in the college sick bay Counting bells knelling classes to a close. At two o'clock our neighbors drove me home. In the porch I met my father crying-- He had always taken funerals in his stride-- And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow. The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram When I came in, and I was embarrassed By old men standing up to shake my hand And tell me they were "sorry for my trouble," Whispers informed strangers I was the eldest, Away at school, as my mother held my hand In hers and coughed out angry tearless sighs. At ten o'clock the ambulance arrived With the corpse, stanched and bandaged by the nurses. Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him For the first time in six weeks. ...read more. Middle The poet describes the reactions of the people around him like his father and uncle. The poet uses 'p' and 'b' sounds which gives the impression of being out of breath and shocked. I think that the boy would feel rather confused and shocked by there behaviour as he is not used to them reacting in this way, as men are usually less emotional, more strong and controlled. In the third stanza there is an ironic description of a baby cooing and laughing in its pram, I think in away the poet uses this image to juxtapose the baby's innocent actions to his own, as he is feeling bewildered and confused and cannot relate to the situation. 'I was embarrassed by old men standing up to shake my hand', this quote shows how immature the poet is and it also shows how there is a reverse of roles here, as usually young boys give respect to older men, whereas now, the poet is receiving the respect. ...read more. Conclusion The death must have happened during the Easter term because snowdrops blossom during spring; the time of Easter. In stanza seven we finally find out how the child died-in a car accident, 'the bumper knocked him clear' This stanza is rather different from the descriptions the day before as it is more intimate, and it is as if it is just him and the body whereas before it was as if he was more concerned with the all the visitors and reactions of everyone else. For the first time in the whole poem the poet uses imagery 'a poppy bruise', this image is very powerful as it gives us a picture of the severity of the bruise The last stanza is shocking and brief and effective; we find out that the child was only four years old, 'a four foot box, a foot for every year'. We also are given an impression of speechlessness and brings the poem to its climax. The speaker in this poem is a young boy and to purvey this, the poet writes in very simple free verse. ...read more. This student written piece of work is one of many that can be found in our GCSE Seamus Heaney section. Found what you're looking for? - Start learning 29% faster today - 150,000+ documents available - Just £6.99 a month - Join over 1.2 million students every month - Accelerate your learning by 29% - Unlimited access from just £6.99 per month
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Seamus Heaney 1939 – 2013, Céard atá i ndán dúinn?, File faoi bhláth ar shlí na fírinne Píosa le húdar an bhlaig, ancroiait.blogspot.com Ar Twitter ar maidin thug mé faoi deara go raibh daoine ag scríobh faoi Seamus Heaney is níor thuig mé cén fáth ar dtús. An raibh duais eile buaite aige? Ach ansin tháinig an smaoineamh sin chugham. Ag an am céanna cheap mé nach bhféadfadh sé ‘bheith fíor. Bhí sé ró-óg. Domsa bhí sé i gcónaí an aois céanna. Bhí sé ina mhúinteoir óg i gCarysfort ag siúl isteach inár rang beag. Ach cén aois é i ndáiríre anois? D’oscail mé an nuacht agus ansin a bhí an fhírinne. Cén scéal é seo ar maidin? Ní raibh mé ag súil leis seo. Tá mo mhúinteoir imithe. Bhí fonn orm caint leis, le rá leis, “Bhí tú lách, an rud is tábhachtaí, is mhínigh tú áilleacht dúinn.” Agus is fíor sin. Is chreid sé ann féin agus ionainn agus b’shin rud nach bhfaca muid cheana san áit sin. Nuair a thosaigh an rang an chéad lá dúirt sé gan náire ar bith, “Is file mé.” D’fhéachamar ar a chéile is trua againn dá mháthair. Ní raibh ach timpeall naonúr againn sa rang sin. Professional English an tideal a bhí ar an gcúrsa. Ní fiú Béarla acadúil. Ach bhí an t-ádh linn. Chuireamar na binsí go na ballaí agus shuíomar i gciorcal sa lár. B’shin rud nua freisin. Léigh sé a dhánta agus d’iarr sé orainn ár dtuairimí fúthu a nochtadh don rang go léir. Is thuigeamar go raibh suim aige iontu. B’shin saol nua ar fad. B’shin an rang ab’ fhearr liom. Léirigh sé an draíocht is spraoi atá i bhfocail. Phlémar an difríocht idir Dock leaf agus Docken leaf agus muid ag caint faoi neantóga agus leigheas. Docken a chuala mé ag fás suas sa Mhuileann gCearr ach bhí Dock ag an gcuid eile den rang. Níor chreid mé riamh roimhe sin go mbeadh rud mar sin tábhachtach. Na fiailí sin ó thalamh bocht! Ach bhí na focail beo ina rang agus d’imríomar leo agus bhlasamar a mbinneas. Ag iarraidh bás mar seo a thuiscint, cuimhním ar a dhán Mid-Term Break. Mid-term Break I sat all morning in the college sick bay Counting bells knelling classes to a close. At ten o’clock our neighbours drove me home. In the porch I met my father crying – He had always taken funerals in his stride – And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow. The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram When I came in, and I was embarrassed By old men standing up to shake my hand And tell me they were ‘sorry for my trouble’ Whispers informed strangers that I was the eldest, Away at school, as my mother held my hand In hers and coughed out angry tearless sighs. At ten o’clock the ambulance arrived With the corpse, stanched and bandaged by the nurses. Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops And candles soothed the bedside I saw him For the first time in six weeks. Paler now, Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple. He lay in a four foot box, as in his cot. No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear. A four foot box, a foot for every year. D’fhéadfaimis uair a chloig a caitheamh ag caint faoin tideal amháin. Téarma. Tearmann. Lár. Cá fhad? Briseadh. Bhí domhan is doimhneacht is deiseanna i ngach focal. B’shin a stíl. Oscail go hiomlán é do gach duine agus éist leis na smaointe go léir a scaoiltear. Aistear. Chuala mé ollamh in ollscoil anseo i Moorpark, California ag míniú don rang gur sneachta a bhí i gceist leis an bhfocal sin Snowdrops. Cén chaoi a mbeadh ‘fhios aige nach ea. Ní fhaca sé Snowdrop riamh ina shaol ach bhí an bláth fíor-speisialta dúinne. Nuair a fheicimid an chéad plúirín sneachta sin in Éirinn tá cion againn dó. Tá meas againn ar a chumhacht cé go bhfuil sé chomh beag sin. Tá ceangailt eadrainn. Muidne agus an bláth. Tugann sé dóchas dúinn go bhfuil sé comh umhal sin lena cheann cromtha agus an chaoi atá sé in ann fás sa bhfuacht. Tagann a chloigeann aníos go bhfeictear é thar an sneachta. Diúltaíonn sé an bás. Ní ghéilleann sé don cruatan. Cosúil le brat ag fógairt saoirse ach le dath an síochána, feictear ansin é ag giobadh amach. Tugann sé le fios go bhfuil an samhradh ag teacht agus nár chóir dúinn misneach a chailleadh. A mhalairt de Madra Goya atá ann. Soineantacht. Sólás. Slán. Chaith Seamus roinnt mhaith ama ag caint faoin bhfrása poppy bruise sa dán sin linn. Seasann sé amach sa dán. Rud nár chóir a bheith ann. Mar an gcéanna liom an nuacht inniu. Níor chóir dó ‘bheith ann. Ó poppies go snowdrops. Bás go fás. Tá na Northern Poets fós ann agus tá filí ar fud na tire. Cé nár scríobh Seamus as Gaeilge, ba fíor-ghael é in ann an tír is a daoine a chuir in iúl don domhan mór. Fiú óna ainm tuigtear a chúlra. Is bhí tuiscint aige ar mhuintearas. Airím uaim é: a chroí mór, a chineáltas, a ghrá dá cheird, an meas a thug sé dúinn, a ghuth. Cosúil leis na snowdrops a soothed thug sé suaimhneas dom is ionadh is misneach. Céard atá i ndán dúinn? An bás, ar ndóigh. Ach ar an mbealach, tá dánta Seamus Heaney againn. Mairfidh a spiorad go deo iontu. Tá an saoi imithe. Tá a spiorad fós linn