One hundred
I am one hundred nations
Speaking one hundred tongues
My DNA is sourced from many lands
I’m not Irish as much as human.
In Tenerife I find a place my soul
Had inhabited before the Spaniards
My spirit dropped anchor in the fields
Above the azure sea beneath the cloudless sky.
In France I found an echo
Of a voice I formed at least
One hundred years ago on a Breton farm
Beside a pink granite shore.
We are a scattering of cosmic dust
With accents drawn from far and near
Don’t tie me to one village
When I hearken to them all.
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