The High Kings of Ireland (Irish: Ard Rí na hÉireann) were sometimes historical and sometimes legendary figures who had, or who are claimed to have had, lordship over the whole of Ireland.
Medieval and early modern Irish literature portrays an almost unbroken sequence of High Kings, ruling from the Hill of Tara over a hierarchy of lesser kings, stretching back thousands of years. Modern historians believe this scheme is artificial, constructed in the 8th century from the various genealogical traditions of politically powerful groups, and intended to justify the current status of those groups by projecting it back into the remote past.
The concept of national kingship is first articulated in the 7th century, but only became a political reality in the Viking Age, and even then not a consistent one. While the High Kings' degree of control varied, Ireland was never ruled by them as a politically unified state, as the High King was conceived of as an overlord exercising suzerainty over, and receiving tribute from, the independent kingdoms beneath him.
Irish (Gaeilge), also referred to as Gaelic or Irish Gaelic, is a Goidelic language of the Indo-European language family, originating in Ireland and historically spoken by the Irish people. Irish is spoken as a first language by a small minority of Irish people, and as a second language by a rather larger group. Irish enjoys constitutional status as the national and first official language of the Republic of Ireland, and is an officially recognised minority language in Northern Ireland. It is also among the official languages of the European Union. The public body Foras na Gaeilge is responsible for the promotion of the language throughout the island of Ireland.
Irish was the predominant language of the Irish people for most of their recorded history, and they brought it with them to other regions, notably Scotland and the Isle of Man, where through earlier branching from Middle Irish it gave rise to Scottish Gaelic and Manx respectively. It has the oldest vernacular literature in Western Europe.
No clouds have been seen
now the sun is shining
the babbeling wavelets whispering
oh how lovely they are!
A lonely girl is walking
the hungry seagulls shreeking
they're circling to the water
and soar away again
she sees the starfishes
they just washed ashore
and picks up sleeping shells
oh how tender they are!
The water bath'her feet
there's a smile on her face
the sun is warming wet grains
Oh how many there are!
And when the night's falling
there's silence all around
the shore is so deserted
ontly the wind cries loud
the flood is coming up
breakers rolling ashore
The waves efface her footprints