MICHAEL LONGLEY, one of Ireland’s most celebrated poets, passed away at 85 on January 22, 2025, leaving behind a remarkable legacy spanning more than 50 years. His death marks the end of a significant generation of Irish poets.

Longley was born in Belfast in 1939 to English parents, the same year as Seamus Heaney, who was raised in rural Co Derry. Alongside Derek Mahon, these three poets formed a triumvirate of talent that came to prominence in the 1960s. Benefiting from the introduction of free secondary education in Britain after World War II, Longley attended the Royal Belfast Academical Institution, where his love for literature flourished. Later, at Trinity College Dublin, he immersed himself in Classics, a field that would greatly shape his poetry.

The connection between Longley, Heaney, and Mahon was pivotal. Despite their different denominational and cultural backgrounds, they became leading voices in the literary renaissance of the north of Ireland during the 1960s. 

Longley often reflected on his dual identity as both Irish and British. “I feel Irish... Ireland has given me all the data out of which I make sense of life, and I think my soul would shrivel if I denied the Britannic side,” he once said. This nuanced sense of belonging and identity enriched his work, allowing him to explore themes of home and heritage with depth.

A deep sensitivity to nature and the Irish landscape was a hallmark of Longley’s poetry. His second home in Carrigskeewaun, County Mayo — his “soul-landscape” — became a recurring motif. His precise and evocative language celebrated nature’s beauty while grappling with mortality and loss.

Longley’s oeuvre spans 13 collections of poetry, beginning with No Continuing City (1969) and concluding with The Slain Birds (2022). His work explored themes of love, nature, politics, and history, including the world wars. It earned him prestigious honours such as the PEN Pinter Prize, the TS Eliot Prize, and the Griffin International Prize.

During the Troubles, Longley often wrote about the human cost of conflict. Ceasefire, published after the 1994 IRA armistice, captures the spirit of reconciliation through a retelling of a scene from The Iliad.

At the heart of Ceasefire is the shared grief of Priam and Achilles. Each mourns someone dear to them — Priam, his son Hector, and Achilles, his companion Patroclus. Their shared pain transcends enmity, fostering a deep mutual understanding.

Longley remains faithful to Homer, reflecting Achilles’s demigod status and Priam’s kingly presence. The fleeting moment of togetherness suggests that even enemies can transcend hatred through shared grief. 

However, the poem does not end on this note of harmony alone. The concluding couplet recalls Priam’s earlier trepidation. The final couplet underscores the monumental step Priam takes to kneel before Achilles. This poignant ending highlights the parity of their grief — Achilles mourning Patroclus, Priam mourning Hector. The hand that killed Hector is also the one that treated his body and Priam with dignity — grief mirroring grief, loss answering loss.