Anthony Cronin, second left, at the Bloomsday commemoration on Sandymount beach, Dublin, in 1954, with, from left, John Ryan, Flann O’Brien, Patrick Kavanagh and Thomas Joyce
Tonight at City Hall, Dublin, the wonderful life, and works of Anthony Cronin will be celebrated by his family, friends, and people. This was one man among us that certainly made a marvelous contribution to all artists and Arts, not just in Ireland but globally.
An unassuming, humble man, of enormous integrity. He always had others and their struggles, particularly artists, to the forefront of all he did, all his days.
His contribution in our lives, we will carry and live it on and hand it down for the generations to come.
Tonight, we salute a true prophet, visionary and philosopher. One of the great Irish thinkers and intellects.
Thank you, Mr. Cronin.
by Anthony Cronin
When word came back to that small whitewashed village,
Strange rumours of his ways and of his talk,
The neighbours shook their heads and didn’t wonder,
His mother was bewildered more than proud.
And coming into lamplit towns at evening,
Seeing the warm red glow behind the blinds,
Lying awake in strange rooms above rivers,
He thought he would be like them if he could.
And when at last the courteous powers took notice
And nailed him to that awful point in time,
He knew that what he meant would be forgotten
Except by some as lonely as himself.
Mannix Flynn 