Gerry Adams (Louth, Sinn Fein) | Oireachtas source

Is mór an onóir domsa an deis seo a fháil chun mo fhíor-chomhbróin agus comhbhrón Sinn Féin a chur in iúl inniu do chlann Séamus Heaney, agus urraim a thabhairt dá gcuimhne.

I am honoured to have the opportunity, on my own behalf and that of Sinn Féin, to join Dáil colleagues and others in the North, including in the Assembly and in south Derry, in expressing to Seamus's widow, Marie, and their children, Christopher, Michael and Catherine Ann, our profound sadness at his passing and our solidarity with them. I cannot recall any death in recent times that was felt by so many people. I know that sense of loss can only be a fraction of what his bereaved family and close personal friends are feeling.

Seoid náisiúnta ab ea Séamus. Táimid fíor-bhuíoch do Marie agus a teaghlach mar thug siad Seamus duinn. He was extremely modest, approachable and humble, and had a great sense of humour. He had a profound and humane understanding of us as a people because he was of us as a people, with all our faultlines, flaws, strengths and weaknesses. Until his death, he was the world's leading living poet in the English language. He was a proud Tamlaghduff man from south County Derry who loved his place and his people. He made them universal because he wrote of them often.

Seamus and Michael McLaverty - another wonderful writer - taught for a time in my home area of Ballymurphy. Michael was headmaster of St. Thomas's secondary school on the Whiterock Road and Seamus was a teacher there. It was from the graffiti there that came, much later, the legend "Is there a life before death" that Seamus used in his poem, Whatever you say, say nothing.

In the early 1970s, when I was on the run, I remember travelling on a bus down the Falls Road reading Death of a Naturalist when the British army stopped the bus and boarded it to check the passengers. They were from the parachute regiment and were menacing. They were asking everyone their names and addresses, as well as where they were coming from and going to. For a second, one Brit stared at me and then he moved on and questioned the passenger behind me. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when they got off the bus. From that point on, Seamus Heaney became a talisman for me and I told him that much later.

In Long Kesh, where I was a prisoner for a time, I remember one 12 July sitting with a couple of other prisoners in a cage. We could hear the Orange drums outside on Blaris Road. To our surprise, one of our comrades started to recite, from memory, the poem Orange Drums, Tyrone, 1966:

The lambeg balloons at his belly, weighs

Him back on his haunches, lodging thunder

Grossly there between his chin and his knees.

He is raised up by what he buckles under.

Each arm extended by a seasoned rod,

He parades behind it. And though the drummers

Are granted passage through the nodding crowd

It is the drums preside, like giant tumours.

To every cocked ear, expert in its greed,

His battered signature subscribes 'No Pope'.

The pigskin's scourged until his knuckles bleed.

The air is pounding like a stethoscope.

Almost 20 years later, I was writing Hope and History - whose title I stole - which deals with the 1980s and 1990s and the birth and evolution of the peace process. I contacted Seamus and asked if he would mind if I quoted from his poem The Cure at Troy. He generously and speedily agreed.

More recently, in 2010, and I have wonderful memories of that day, he returned to west Belfast for the rededication of a stone at the grave of the playwright, Sam Thompson, and to speak about Michael McLaverty. Sam Thompson was a well-known and influential writer who wrote a wonderful play called Over the Bridge. This was in 1959 when I was only a child. It came under huge pressure from the old Unionist regime and the Group Theatre in Belfast refused to stage it. Jimmy Ellis, who became well known later for his part in the television series "Z Cars", left the Group Theatre to set up his own company which staged the play. It was a hugely courageous thing to do at that time.

Seamus was to speak at Féile an Phobail on all these matters. A group of us gathered at Sam Thompson's grave in the city cemetery, including Sam's son and Jimmy Ellis. It was raining but I cannot tell the story because it would be embarrassing to one or two of the people there, but it was hilarious. It was rescued by Seamus at the end who paid tribute both to Sam Thompson and Jimmy Ellis.

Afterwards, he and Marie went off to visit St. Thomas's school with Danny Morrison. I am told that was the first time he was in the school since he left around 1961. It was a very emotional visit. In his talk that day in the big hall in St. Mary's University College on the Falls Road, he told us about the first time he saw his future wife sitting there. He also spoke about being a student and paid tribute to Michael McLaverty. His comments were peppered with humorous insights and telling observations about writing, literature and Belfast at that time. Everyone was enthralled, and then he read us some of his poetry. He thoroughly enjoyed that event and, just as importantly, so did Marie.

She was especially delighted. His poetry uplifted, surprised and challenged us. It brought him comfort. I attended the mass and was delighted because I had written an article about Seamus's performance during the Fleadh in Derry with Liam Óg O'Flynn of The Poet and the Piperand The Given Note. Two of my favourite pieces of music and poetry are Seamus Heaney's Port na bPúcaí andThe Given Note. The Given Note was given to Seamus. He worked on, developed and honed it. He magically wove words, relived memories, invoked imagination and made us laugh and cry. He also made us think.

I listened to the Minister for Education and Skills, Deputy Quinn, ag léamhFrom The Republic of Conscience.I read it aloud in the car last week. I was not driving at the time. I read it aloud because I think poetry is always better when one hears it. It is a wonderful poem. I was amazed by the magic within it. I do not think any of us could make reference to Seamus Heaney without referencing the Cure at Troy. It is so true. It reads:

Human beings suffer,

They torture one another,

They get hurt and get hard.

No poem or play or song

Can fully right a wrong

Inflicted and endured.

The innocent in gaols

Beat on their bars together.

A hunger-striker's father

Stands in the graveyard dumb.

The police widow in veils

Faints at the funeral home.

History says, don't hope

On this side of the grave.

But then, once in a lifetime

The longed-for tidal wave

Of justice can rise up,

And hope and history rhyme.

So hope for a great sea-change

On the far side of revenge.

Believe that further shore

Is reachable from here.

Believe in miracle

And cures and healing wells.

In these days of turbulence and change in the North, we should be ever mindful that a further shore is reachable from here and we should reach for it. Thank you Marie, Catherine Ann, Christopher and Michael. Go raibh míle maith agat. Thank you, Seamus Heaney.

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