J Joseph Mary Plunkett

Joseph Mary Plunkett

57 şiir · Dublin

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Joseph Mary Plunkett (Irish: Seosamh Máire Pluincéid) was an Irish nationalist, poet, journalist, and a leader of the 1916 Easter Rising. Background Plunkett was born at 26 Upper Fitzwilliam Street in one of Dublin's most affluent neighborhoods. Both his parents came from wealthy backgrounds, and his father, George Noble Plunkett, had been made a papal count. Despite being born into a life of privilege, young Joe Plunkett did not have an easy childhood. Plunkett contracted tuberculosis at a young age. This was to be a lifelong burden. His mother was unwilling to believe his health was as bad as it was. He spent part of his youth in the warmer climates of the Mediterranean and north Africa. He was educated at the Catholic University School (CUS) and by the Jesuits at Belvedere College in Dublin and later at Stonyhurst College, in Lancashire, where he acquired some military knowledge from the Officers' Training Corps. Throughout his life, Joseph Plunkett took an active interest in Irish heritage and the Irish language, and also studied Esperanto. Plunkett was one of the founders of the Irish Esperanto League. He joined the Gaelic League and began studying with Thomas MacDonagh, with whom he formed a lifelong friendship. The two were both poets with an interest in theater, and both were early members of the Irish Volunteers, joining their provisional committee. Plunkett's interest in Irish nationalism spread throughout his family, notably to his younger brothers George and John, as well as his father, who allowed his property in Kimmage, south Dublin, to be used as a training camp for young men who wished to escape conscription in England during World War I. Men there were instead trained to fight for Ireland. IRB involvement Sometime in 1915 Joseph Plunkett joined the Irish Republican Brotherhood and soon after was sent to Germany to meet with Roger Casement, who was negotiating with the German government on behalf of Ireland. Casement's role as emissary was self-appointed, and, as he was not a member of the IRB, that organisation's leadership wished to have one of their own contact Germany to negotiate German aid for an uprising the following year. He was seeking (but not limiting himself to) a shipment of arms. Casement, on the other hand, spent most of his energies recruiting Irish prisoners of war in Germany to form a brigade to fight instead for Ireland. Some nationalists in Ireland saw this as a fruitless endeavor, and preferred to seek weapons. Plunkett successfully got a promise of a German arms shipment to coincide with the rising. The Easter Rising Plunkett was one of the original members of the IRB Military Committee that was responsible for planning the rising, and it was largely his plan that was followed. As such he may be held partially responsible for the military disaster that ensued, one should realize that in the circumstances any plan was bound to fail.[citation needed] Shortly before the rising was to begin, Plunkett was hospitalized following a turn for the worse in his health. He had an operation on his neck glands days before Easter and had to struggle out of bed to take part in what was to follow. Still bandaged, he took his place in the General Post Office with several other of the rising's leaders such as Patrick Pearse and Tom Clarke, though his health prevented him from being terribly active. His energetic aide de camp was Michael Collins. Marriage and execution Following the surrender Plunkett was held in Kilmainham Gaol, and faced a court martial. Hours before his execution by firing squad at the age of 28, he was married in the prison chapel to his sweetheart Grace Gifford, a Protestant convert to Catholicism, whose sister, Muriel, had years before also converted and married his best friend Thomas MacDonagh, who was also executed for his role in the Easter Rising. Aftermath His brothers George Oliver Plunkett and Jack Plunkett joined him in the Easter Rising and later became important IRA men. However his father's cousin, Horace Plunkett, was a Protestant Unionist who sought to reconcile both sides. Instead, he witnessed his own home burned down by the Anti-Treaty IRA during the Irish Civil War. The main railway station in Waterford City is named after him as is Joseph Plunkett tower in Ballymun. Plunkett barracks in the Curragh Camp, County Kildare is also named after him.)

Joseph Mary Plunkett şiirleri

Arama yardımı
İngilizce

The wind rose, the sea rose A wave rose on the sea, It sang the mournful singing Of a sad centenary;…

İngilizce

All our best ye have branded When the people were choosing them, When ’twas Death they demanded Ye laughed! Ye were losing them.…

İngilizce

I am the Seer: for in you I see The fair unfolding of a secret flower, The pomp and pageant of eternal power, The crown and pride of your high destiny.…

İngilizce

Beside the golden gate there grows a tree Whose heavy fruit gives entrance to the ways Of Wonder, and the leaves thereof are days Of desolation—nights of agony…

I am a wave of the sea And the foam of the wave And the wind of the foam And the wings of the wind.…

Before the glory of your love The beauty of the world is bowed In adoration, and to prove Your praises every Truth is proud:…

İngilizce

As blazes forth through clouds the morning sun, So shines your soul, and I must veil my sight Lest it be stricken to eternal night By too much seeing ere my song be done,…

İngilizce

To-day when I beheld you all alone And might have stayed to speak, the watchful love Leapt up within my heart—then quick to prove New strength, the fruit of sorrow you have sown…

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If the dread all-seeing stars, Ringed Saturn and ruddy Mars And their companions all the seven, That play before the lord of Heaven,…

If I should need to tear aside The veils that hide both Heaven and Hell To tell you that a soul had died That once but tried to love you well…

I love you with my every breath, I make you songs like thunder birds, Give you my life—you give me death And stab me with your dreadful words.…

İngilizce

Our lips can only stammer, yet we chant High things of God. We do not hope to praise The splendour and the glory of his ways, Nor light up Heaven with our low descant:…

Gaunt windy moons bedraggled in the dusk Have drifted by and withered in their shame, The once-proud Thunder-Terror, fallen tame, Noses for truffles with unwhetted tusk;…

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I saw the Sun at midnight, rising red, Deep-hued yet glowing, heavy with the stain Of blood-compassion, and I saw It gain Swiftly in size and growing till It spread…

I see his blood upon the rose And in the stars the glory of his eyes, His body gleams amid eternal snows, His tears fall from the skies.…

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