Profile: Phien O'Phien, "a travellin' man"

By KIM SHANKAR

Above: Phien O'Phien. Picture © Kim Shankar

PHIEN O'Reachtigan was born in the "Swinging Sixties" into a family of Pavee people, more widely known as Irish Travellers. The youngest of six brtothers and six sisters, he was born in a hospital, although many of his siblings were born at the side of the road, incanvas tents. He is a single father of seven children, for of whom he raised single handedly.

Self-taught, with very little formal education, Phien moved around the UK and Ireland with his family during his formative years, when he began to write poems to describe how he felt inside.

 

Above: "Hum hum hum", a folk song-response to Dale Farm by Phien O'Phien

Following years of harrassment during site evictions, he became a community activist and advocate, teaching Kent Police how to liaise more effectively with Irish Travellers and treat them with more respect. Phien currently represents the Pavee community in an official capacity at talks, conferences and demos throughout Europe.

Using his artist name, Phien O'Phien has reams of as-yet unpublished material, including a play, a book, photographs and several poems in the wings about his life and activism on the road.

His new album is currently in production. Below are the lyrics to "The Ramblin' Rose and the Lily", a song by Phien. He is currently putting together an exciting cultural live show which seeks to educate and entertain people about the life and times of Irish Travellers.

The Ramblin' Rose and the Lily by Phien O'Phien

 

The Rose might love the Lily

Her scent adores to trace

In spring time I would kiss the petals

Of the sweetest face

 

A richness of carnation

I'd offer up to she

By way of nature's perfume

While the willow weeps for me

 

For I am but a Rambler and my graden's country wide

And if she entwines herself with me in fields we would abide

For the gradeners despise the rambler, they'd rather have us dead

For a Rambling Rose and Lily should never share a bed.

 

And the mulch they spread amongst us

Is of the deadly kind

It would kill the roots of love for sure

It's what they have in mind

 

For the sake of her I'll drop away

Go drifting in the winde

And let her go back to her land

Among her own dear kind.

 

For I am but a Rambler and my graden's country wide

And if she entwines herself with me in fields we would abide

For the gradeners despise the rambler, they'd rather have us dead

For a Rambling Rose and Lily should never share a bed.