In a poll of the top ten most romantic nations in the world, it’s doubtful if many would vote for Ireland. Irish men have a reputation for being shy and taciturn except after a few beers and with few exceptions, being more interested in sport than their wives or girlfriends.
Ireland does possess however, some of the most romantic landscapes in the world. From the mountains of Mourne in the north east of the island, to the wildness of Connemara in the west, the stunning valleys of the Wicklow mountains in the east such as Glendalough, the windswept romantic coastline of west Cork and the breathtaking majesty of the Dingle peninsula with its stunning marriage of mountains and sea.
Ireland has also produced more than its share of literary heavyweights and there is something within the soul of the Irish that loves to give expression to our innermost thoughts normally through speech and song. One of our most celebrated poets and Nobel prizewinner for literature in 1923 is William Butler (W.B.) Yeats. So as a gift for you to share on this Valentine’s day and as a reply to those who say the Irish are not romantic I give you a poem from W.B. Yeats from the year 1888:
He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.