Today Is the feast day of Saint Anne Pray for me I am the madwoman of Cork.
Yesterday In Castle street I saw two goblins at my feet I saw a horse without a head Carrying the dead To the graveyard Near Turner’s Cross.
I am the madwoman of Cork No one talks to me.
When I walk in the rain The children throw stones at me Old men persecute me And women close their doors. When I die Believe me They’ll set me on fire.
I am the madwoman of Cork I have no sense.
Sometimes With an eagle in my brain I can see a train Crashing at the station If I told people that They’d choke me. Then where would I be?
I am the madwoman of Cork The people hate me.
When Canon Murphy died I wept on his grave That was twenty-five years ago. When I saw him just now In Dunbar Street He had clay in his teeth He blest me.
I am the madwoman of Cork The clergy pity me.
I see death In the branches of a tree Birth in the feathers of a bird. To see a child with one eye Or a woman buried in ice Is the worst thing And cannot be imagined.
I am the madwoman of Cork My mind fills me. I should like to be young To dress up in silk And have nine children I’d like to have red lips But I’m eighty years old. I have nothing But a small house with no windows.
I am the madwoman of Cork Go away from me. And if I die now Don’t touch me. I want to sail in a long boat From here to Roche’s Point And there I will anoint The sea With oil of alabaster.
I am the madwoman of Cork And today Is the feast day of Saint Anne. Feed me.