Old lime kiln on Helton

Fanad and I came up here for a cup of tea and cake.
It always has a timeless quality to it up here.
A place to forget your name ...

Getting Used to Your Name - by Marin Sorescu

(translated By Gabriela Dragnea, Stuart Friebert, and Adriana Varga)

After you’ve learned to walk,
Tell one thing from another,
Your first care as a child
Is to get used to your name.
What is it?
They keep asking you.
You hesitate, stammer,
And when you start to give a fluent answer
Your name’s no longer a problem.

When you start to forget your name,
It’s very serious.
But don’t despair,
An interval will set in.

And soon after your death,
When the mist rises from your eyes,
And you begin to find your way
In the everlasting darkness,
Your first care (long forgotten,
Long since buried with you)
Is to get used to your name.
You’re called — just as arbitrarily —
Dandelion, cowslip, cornel,
Blackbird, chaffinch, turtle dove,
Costmary, zephyr — or all these together.
And when you nod, to show you’ve got it,
Everything’s all right:
The earth, almost round, may spin
Like a top among stars.