Cohen comes to Lissadell: a living poet comes to a dead poet's corner.

IN MEMORY OF EVA GORE-BOOTH AND CON MARKIEWICZ

The light of evening, Lissadell,
Great windows open to the south,
Two girls in silk kimonos, both
Beautiful, one a gazelle.
But a raving autumn shears
Blossom from the summer's wreath;
The older is condemned to death,
Pardoned, drags out lonely years
Conspiring among the ignorant.
I know not what the younger dreams -
Some vague Utopia - and she seems,
When withered old and skeleton-gaunt,
An image of such politics.
Many a time I think to seek
One or the other out and speak
Of that old Georgian mansion, mix
Pictures of the mind, recall
That table and the talk of youth,
Two girls in silk kimonos, both
Beautiful, one a gazelle.

Dear shadows, now you know it all,
All the folly of a fight
With a common wrong or right.
The innocent and the beautiful
Have no enemy but time;
Arise and bid me strike a match
And strike another till time catch;
Should the conflagration climb,
Run till all the sages know.
We the great gazebo built,
They convicted us of guilt;
Bid me strike a match and blow.

Alex and me bade adieu to the Piccadilly Line and the house project and repaired to the Village for a few weeks. The first event to attend to on arrival was the Leonard Cohen concert in Lissadell. BF and I had a long discussion about travel and parking arrangements. Lissadell has never been used as a concert venue before and practical advice is scant. To drive to the venue direct and hope for the best regarding parking or to hop on one of busses leaving from various points. I favour taking a chance on parking at the venue while BF leaned towards the bus option. In the end we both ended parking at the venue.

It promised to be a special event. The setting was awesome, to be sure. The stage was set against a canopy of hazel wood (I went down to the hazel wood and hooked a berry to a thread) and through the trees the odd boat passing by on Sligo Bay could be seen. To the left of the stage is Sligo’s own Table Mountain, Benbulben, at whose foot, Yeats is buried in the graveyard of the church at Drumcliff.

The man I heard on the radio summed up Leonard Cohen far better than I ever could when he said that his lyrics contain much meaning which resonates with life’s cards of love, longing, loss and lust. BF and I along with her daughter had seen Leonard in Dublin last year and it was the most spiritual event that I had not anticipated. We had not been prepared to cry as we did. Leonard Cohen arrested us on that occasion and made us stop and reflect on our lives through his words. His delivery and respect for his musicians and for us was so evident. It was moving beyond belief. It was also fun. He delivered comments gently and with a wryness born from a life fully lived. And a life fully lived, contains loss. Alex and some friends who came with BF were as moved as we had been in Dublin 2009 but BF & I did agree that, Cohen in Lissadell, while thoroughly enjoyable, did lack the intense intimacy of the performance in Dublin 2009.