La biografía del poeta irlandés Patrick Kavanagh guarda muchos parecidos con la de Miguel Hernández. Los dos tuvieron una infancia dura y, tras tener que dejar la escuela a temprana edad, tuvieron que dedicarse a ganarse el sustento como pastor en el caso de Hernández o como agricultor en el caso del irlandés.
El talento sobrevive y no se deja vencer ni por el hambre.
INNOCENCE
They laughed at one I loved-
The triangular hill that hung
Under the Big Forth. They said
That I was bounded by the whitethorn hedges
Of the little farm and did not know the world.
But I knew that love's doorway to life
Is the same doorway everywhere.
Ashamed of what I loved
I flung her from me and called her a ditch
Although she was smiling at me with violets.
But now I am back in her briary arms
The dew of an Indian Summer lies
On bleached potato-stalks
What age am I?
I do not know what age I am,
I am no mortal age;
I know nothing of women, Nothing of cities,
I cannot dieUnless I walk outside these whitethorn hedges.
Foto vía padronel.net
