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Sonja Nic Rafferty

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Eschede, Lower Saxony, Germany

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Where are You?

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty


Where have you been all the years,
Father of my dreams?
Wear a kilt and stamp
The arms of your clan
Deep into my burned out heart.
I climbed them
The Highlands of Scotland.

Where have you been?

Where have you been all the years,
Father of my fantasies?
Let us raise a glass of whisky
To rinse away all tears.
I saw them
The inns of Scotland.

Where have you been?

Where have you been all the years,
Father of my hopes?
Play a song on the pipe
And let the sounds of your
Celtic ancestors tinkle
Over the Scottish Sea.

I sailed around
The harbours of Scotland.

I will come back.
Where are you?


On an Island

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty


On an island I am stranded.
Today I walk where twilight is hiding sadness.
Tomorrow where dancing and music is reviving joy of life.
I do not look to the future.
I do not look to the presence.
I think of the past.
It is my safe heritage.
With you I have been on the shores of my secret thoughts.
Always when I return to my duties,
Freedom and sea rustle will banished to dreams.
I will not complain, I will never ask,
Why I found you and lose again.
I cannot find what I am looking for.
Father of my imagination, brother of my hopes.
On an island I am stranded.
Today I walk where twilight is hiding sadness.
Tomorrow where dancing and music is reviving joy of life.
I do not look to the future.
I do not look to the presence.
I think of the past.
It is my safe heritage.
Where the foam of the sea softly washes my feet.
I am stranded on an island.


Snow falls on Westerland

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty


Snow falls on Westerland,
Sylt has just celebrated New Year’s Eve.
Travellers are on their way - globetrotters on tour!
I am spotting musicians behind a pub window,
Touching my heart with Celtic sounds.
But it is just the Christmas light’s reflection.
And the storm carries a traditional song kindly
To me - Thanks for a wonderful moment in a glance.
I will take the way back home walking on the beach.
Again I see Scottish thistles everywhere and
Bag pipes on the dunes hidden by the fog.
New Year’s Eve is a time to say farewell
To the past and it is a time to smile.


Thistles in the Clouds

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty


Where thistles are reflected by the clouds,
And monsters are supposed in lochs
There lies my secret fairy tale land.

Where proud castles hail the railway traveller,
And stonework festively glitters,
There I spent my nicest hours.

Where the "Athens of the North" grants me warmness,
And I haven't missed any beach of the world,
There I gave my heart to a land.

Where thistles not only grow on hills,
And I painted them with colours of melancholy,
There I met the adventure of "Discovery".

Where I crossed the Highlands in an old VW,
And 1971 in vain I traced my father,
There astonished I caught sight of my reflected image.

Where in Mid Craigie Dad's house not yet exists,
And I desperately always come back,
There for all that I detect traces.

Where I was guest at a comprehensive,
And taught pupils in uniform,
There I wish to have profession for longer.

Where we found golf balls in the wild camomile,
And you talked about your childhood,
There again I would like to taste freedom.

Where thistles are reflected by the clouds,
And I see the flower of Scotland everywhere,
There a dream becomes reality.


Life Begins Every Day

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty


Do not say it would be everything so senselessly
In this time of the cold, the devastations.
See the lonely rose bud in my garden blossoms
In spite of all the frost, the cold.
Life begins every day,
Develops slowly like the bud,
Opens carefully the delicate petals,
Ventures, strongly shines in all the greyness,
In this time of devastation.
Life begins every day.

The Roses of Dundee

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty


The roses of Dundee
They smell so sweet,
Far over all oceans.
I am a sprout of Scotland,
But may not see them.
Their colours shine bright
Far over all countries.
I saw them just once
But never forget them!
I am not legitimate,
However a Rafferty.
When I find my father
I will see them
The roses of Dundee.
They will smell sweeter
And shine brighter than ever.
I will pluck the most beautiful
Bouquet for you, Scotland.
Take me as a native
Daughter of your country.
Let me be proud, also
To be a child of Dundee.


Kaleidoscope of Life

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty


many pictures you can spot
in the course of your life
some still shine after years
others after hours yet have
disappeared on the scene
soap-bubbles in sunbeams
just want to be adored briefly
some pictures - which seem to be
obscure to you in the beginning
make sense later
gradually they develop outlines
no matter how - all pictures
leave behind impressions and traces


A Few Days in Sligo

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty


I wish I was in Sligo,
Where roots got lost by force.
Only a few days in Sligo,
I want to dig for the hidden roots.

But Sligo is far, I cannot get there.
For others the first prize is a journey.
In vain I wait for the lottery winning,
Sooner I die, like Dad, entirely quiet.

At least I reached Dublin City,
In every Paddy I saw my father’s substitude.
Not only "the girls are so pretty" there.
Maybe the river Liffey is giving me a berth.

Today I feel myself sick and old,
A journey to Sligo would be a fountain of youth.
But Germany is far away and cold,
Now heavy storms beat the ocean.

I wish I was in Sligo,
Only a few days in Sligo.
I want to take roots.


Solitude Dimension

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty


This feeling, not to know
Where he belongs,
Where he should stay forever,
Is as it were a grey winter’s night,
Lonely, cold and wet.
He is a wanderer,
On a search of identity,
Waiting for untold rejoicing,
To find a deep peace
Beyond the fourth dimension.


Saying Farewell to the Sea

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty


When damp fog at the empty beach
Makes mighty foam to shadow giants,
I feel myself in the world of the sea fables.
Saying farewell is near, yet the time I have still got left
And the memory, that nobody can take me away.

When damp pour over the "Red Cliff"
Wipes out my thoughts of return,
I go hand by hand with the wind.
The night is moonlight over the shore promenade,
This is my time, that nobody can take me away.

When the storm over Westerland
Digs up the shore and my soul,
In the cover of the dunes I run to meet my past.
There I feel myself safe, that nobody can take me away.

When sunbeams over the sea
Change soft waves to kaleidoscope
I am bewitched for many hours.
That sea rustle in my ears, that nobody can take me away.


hope

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty

do not build castles in the air
I always have been told
but yet I want to build castles
for everybody
for me
and anyway
I will carry on digging for my roots
to fight against cancer
I still have many targets to achieve
and hope
if you know what I mean
I do not lose easily
because
I always say
strong dreams will become
reality!


Lost Father

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty

Although not yet from this world
I see your crystal blue eyes
Well-minded looking down at me.
I never was introduced to you,
So you had to live in my own
Imagination for eternity.
I always can call you,
And you are coming into my world,
Which was standing still , when you
Were a traveller in a foreign country.
How else could I find deep peace,
If I did not stopped the time?
I look at you and you look back.
Or is it just a slipping away shadow?
A surrealistic picture,
a photographical dream?


Light and Shadow

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty

Light and shadow I see in front of me,
They are so close together.
The glamorous brightness
Just in my nearness
Cheers me up.
I feel warmness.
But all pomp and all the glitter,
They cast a shadow.
Only round the corner it is dark,
That I am frightened
And cannot walk one step further.
I feel coldness .
I realize, I have to pass it.

Light and shadow I see in front of me.


Skyline

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty

Skyline - not far from him,
There is a memory.
When he came into her life,
He balanced alone
On the silhouette of mixed feelings.
Very much he staggered
And searched for her hand.
He held himself all tight,
However he overturned deep in confusion,
Where the contours of connexion
Dissolved too much in a hurry.

Skyline - not far from him,
There is a memory.

But in all the fog
Again he found her.
They climbed the hills up and down,
Always seeing each other, but from the other end.
Now at the firmament he is spotting
He is spotting a skyline for eternity,
With the emerald colour of hope
In the starry sky.
With the pink colour of dreams
In the summer sky.

Skyline - not far from him,
There is a memory.


A Winter Song

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty

A winter song I write for you on the snow,
perishable and short like winters are.
Eagles flew with us over the
summits of the Highlands.
The silhouette of Ben Nevis
is reflecting by the crystals of the lochs.
The lights sparkle from the north.
Will I see them in foreign cities?
I envisage the shore of Loch Ness
which promised so much security.

A winter song I play for you
on the piano seized with sadness.
Our father’s tragedy
the ballad of Tristan and Iseult.
The south wind carries it to you,
you just have to listen.
Do you hear our melody?
That must stay uncompleted,
a mystic song, a sad song,
in the echo of the Highlands.

A winter song I sing for you,
I will accompany the cold winter
that is leaving.
On which oceans I ever might sail,
our song will attend me
with the clouds,
which blow upon to me in the south.
Will the next winter
draught to the north and
take me back to Loch Ness?


Two Thistles

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty

dedicated to my Scottish brother John

Two thistles grew for a while happily
And fast in the valley of hope
Two thistles resisted on and on
The icy merciless north wind

The sky reflected their purple colour
After years above the mountains of memories
So united two thistles sparkled a duet
For they looked as twins alike

Destiny can be a cruel judge
It started to dig up a thistle with roots
Sadly flickered the distortion mirror lights
In the sky two thistles had to despair

Yet one thistle throve magnificently in new company
Meanwhile the twin withered in dreary waiting period
Two thistles grow separately with different strength
Now the sunset reflects dark thistle mourning clothes

My German original as a rhyme:

Zwei Disteln

Zwei Disteln wuchsen eine Weile heiter
Im Tal der gemeinsamen Hoffnung geschwind
Zwei Disteln trotzten immer weiter
Einem eisigen unbarmherzigen Nordwind

Der Himmel reflektierte ihr Blau-Violett
Über den Bergen der Erinnerung nach Jahren
So strahlten vereint zwei Disteln im Duett
Weil sie ähnlich wie Zwillinge sich waren

Das Schicksal ist ein grausamer Richter
Es begann eine Distel mit Wurzeln auszugraben
Traurig flackerten die Zerrspiegel-Lichter
Am Himmel - zwei Disteln mussten verzagen

Doch eine Distel gedieh prächtig in neuer Gesellschaft
Während ihr Zwilling verkümmerte in trister Wartezeit
Zwei Disteln wachsen nun getrennt mit unterschiedlicher Kraft
Im Abendrot spiegelt sich ein dunkles Distel-Trauerkleid

Deirdre

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty


I let my soul dive
Into the tint blue of the myth
About Deirdre and her lover Naoise.
Her passion did not care any risk.
My suburban garden is an enchanted forest.
My house turns into a castle in Eire.
I see Deirdre’s silhouette light-footed
Floating through time and space,
Attended by mysterious sounds.
A smile that comes from the innermost part
Is covering her imaginary countenance.
Début of beauty and harmony.
Yet nobody can flee from
Not assimilated background.
To stay under civic shelter or to go?
There is no third way.
We are all prisoners of our feelings,
Like Deirdre and Naoise,

Traced by mighty shadows.
Love, hate and death,
Eternal circulation of life!
Hopeless escape into a wood
That loses its magic.
The trees do not carry leaves anymore,
In velocity of wind my castle goes to ruin.
Of immortal love and Deirdre.

Dublin

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty

First I saw Dublin from above,
"Ryan Air" flew in a dare curve.
I only knew Ireland from the books,
For deep mental affinity I was looking.
Emerald Isle, land of my ancestors,
Yet runs my head since years!
My tour started with the city at River Liffey,
Irish music and Guinness, are an absolute must!
I spotted friendliness and patience.
In Dublin even nowadays still cult,
O’Connell Bridge and Temple Bar,
I would like to stay in Dublin for a year.
"The quick meals are spicy" is a German saying,
So I tried to be content with the weekend.
Dublin’s citizens I want to meet again,
I do not give a darn on the weather, let it rain!

Winter Sun

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty

In the midst of hazy punch, art and season’s kitsch
Through Christmas tree decorations’ overcastted view
Memory gradually fades in deceptive light
The taste of bitter almonds - do you know it?

Elsewhere the winter sun is shining
But here with me the sprouts of hope are killed by frost
As if somebody has pushed insurmountable rocks
In front of the golden sunbeams

Nevertheless wanderlust lurks in my slumber armchair
Even so wakes up enraptured memories
Millions of melancholically swaying purple thistle blossoms
Between leaves and branches of that time covered with dew
Under the heavenly silver moon

Let soften my hardened glacier soul
And lost in thought turn back to the yearned for distant lands
Finding again old friends from Edinburgh up to Inverness
Meanwhile still the severe frosts of my agony
Melts together with Advent cinnamon’s fragrance

Perhaps I should move Dream Mountains to there
And pick up crushed trails of long since forgotten ancestors
Far away from desk job and other worries
Dipping my soul into the dark blue of mystical highland lakes

I wish never to tire of dreaming in the wind
Above this mighty ocean of my morning’s hope
Why are paradise and hell sometimes so close to each other?

Elsewhere the winter sun is still shining
But here with me in the midst of hazy punch, art and season’s kitsch
Out of Christmas tree decoration’s overcastted view
Memory gradually fades in deceptive light

Departure of September Sun

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty

The sun paints colours of gold on autumn trees
Memory wind suddenly is blowing over my house
With blood-red hands from overripe blackberries
I sit at my attic window where the terrified flitter mouse
Last night tried to get in, sunbeams softly tickle my mind
Churchyard silence! September mood fades to grey
I imagine the emerald green of young plants I find
In summer gardens, butterflies flee the ageing day
I let myself fall down into the brown of humility
The spice of the autumn arouses sweet desire
Like soldiers somehow pines line up with tranquillity
They salute to me behind the curtains before they retire
Oh, my poor eye, just notice the beauties right now!
From the dark clouds injustice smirks at my face
Oak, birch and beech reverently still carry a heavy crown
I want to travel to an eternal spring, revitalized youth I trace

Floating Autumn Mist

by

Sonja Nic Rafferty

In the foggy place with the fading sun
I’ve searched for the secrets of the past
Misty autumn days suddenly have begun
Powerfully to chase the warm rays fast

I bear sorrow in my soul these lonely days
Through misty rain I see a mystic wood
Leaves from ancient oaks fell on my ways
Like giants plants the trees proudly stood

Will they tell me legends of a Celtic land?
I wasn’t allowed to call this country my own
But I will search until the magic’s tragic end
It’s like carrying a burden out of a cold stone

In the misty place with some golden sun
I look for the whole truth of my lost past
Floating autumn mist suddenly has begun
Mystical pictures on my seeking soul to cast