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Marc Mulholland, Oxford University

forest.jpg

Above is a picture of Portglenone Forest, where I grew up (my father was a forester).

Deep in the grounds of a burnt-out hotel, / Among the bathtubs and washbasins / A thousand mushrooms crowd to a keyhole. / This is the one star in their firmament / or frames a star within a star. / What should they do there but desire? / So many rhododendrons / With the world waltzing in its bowl of cloud, / They have learnt patience and silence / Listening to the rooks querulous in the high woods
 
They are begging us, you see, in their wordless way, / To do something, to speak on their behalf / Or at least not to close the door again. / Lost people of Treblinka and Pompeii! / "Save us, save us," they seem to say, / Let the god not abandon us / Who have come so far in darkness and in pain. / We too had our lives to live. / You with your light meter and relaxed itinerary, / Let not our naive labours have been in vain!'
Derek Mahon, 'A Disused Shed in Co. Wexford"

pm3_t1.jpg

This is a picture of an IRA man in 1971. I do research on the Northern Ireland Troubles.

Too long a sacrifice
 Can make a stone of the heart.
 O when may it suffice?

W. B. Yeats,
'Easter, 1916' (1921)

marc.jpeg

This is me. Picture taken by Jessica Thomas.

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Marc Mulholland, University of Oxford.

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