Poetry at the Post: St. Patrick’s Day with Jean Blewett

St. Patrick’s Day
BY JEAN BLEWETT

There’s an Isle, a green Isle, set in the sea,
Here’s to the Saint that blessed it!

ireland 2015

Trinity College Dublin, Ireland July 2013
Trinity College
Dublin, Ireland
July 2013
Traveling Across Ireland July 2013
Traveling Across Ireland
July 2013
Trim, Ireland July 2013
Trim, Ireland
July 2013

ireland 6

ireland 7

Jean Blewett was a writer, poet and journalist and a regular contributor to The Globe, a Toronto newspaper. She was born in Kent County, Ontario of Scottish—not Irish—parents. Not much else is known about her other than that she was a frequent lecturer on temperance and suffragism.

Jean_Blewett_(cropped)

Here’s to old Ireland—fair, I ween,
With the blue skies stretched above her!
Here’s to her shamrock warm and green,
And here’s to the hearts that love her!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day 2015!

Poetry at the Post: The Travels of an Accordion

Урок по акордеон * by Alice-Catherine Jennings, as translated from the English by Dimana Ivanova

Те се вмъкнаха в ретро колата и седнаха на предните й места.

Това беше времето, което прекарваха заедно всяка

Oaxaca skyline photo credit: John Jennings
Oaxaca skyline
photo credit: John Jennings

To see your work in print in your own language is pretty great but to see it transformed into another language is totally awesome.

“Accordion Lesson” began as a response to a  prompt: ‘Write something from your childhood.” Uh oh! I really did not want to walk down the stairs to that dark basement of memories yet I felt committed to the exercise.

In Oaxaca, Mexico to study Spanish, I was feeling removed from my life in the States, and even more so from my life as a child growing up in Ohio. I was stumped. One morning on my way to the university, I found a connection—the acordeonistas of Oaxaca.

Yes, I admit it. I played an accordion as a child—for about 5 years. My accordion was big, emerald green with a tiny diamond in the center to  mark the middle C. I was a tall, skinny kid and the accordion overwhelmed my body.

My green accordion has traveled far via this poem—from Oaxaca to publication in Ireland and south to Bratislava, where my translator, Dimana Ivanova, currently lives.  Dimana, is not only a scholar and translator but also a poet. Here are the opening lines of her lovely poem “Come.” You can find the full poem is on her website. 

Come by Dimana Ivanova

Translated from Bulgarian by Katerina Stoykova-Klemer

Come and enter my soft sorrow,

with a velvet tail of silver!

Enter me like a gray fox,

enter and run tenderly on my flesh,



*”Accordion Lesson” was first published in Boyne Berries,  March 2014

Accordion Lesson by Alice-Catherine Jennings

They slip into the front seat of the station

wagon. This is their time together