D’abord ce poème de Seamus Heaney, puis une histoire de bus : Two LorriesIt’s raining on black coal and warm wet ashes.There are tyre-marks in the yard, Agnew’s old lorryHas its cribs down and Agnew the coalmanWith his Belfast accent’s sweet-talking my mother.Would she ever go to a film in Magherafelt?But it’s raining and he still has half the load To deliver farther on. This time the lodeOur coal came from was silk-black, so the ashesWill be the silkiest white. The Magherafelt(Via Toomebridg..
