The Soul of their Culture

Somewhere in Taipei
In the light of a night market
Coloured by the odours
And the smells
Of tofu, of noodles, and of tea
Of garlic and of rice
Of incense and of grills
The words carried the wind
Of liberty
And fear
And the soul of culture.

Suddenly
A scent of stout
Incensed the air
And carried the sounds
Of stories
That once were heard
At the Long Valley
Somewhere in Cork