A few days ago we bid an emotional final farewell to the person who I refer to as the poet of the workers, the esteemed Ray Mahoney. 

Ray's journey on this earth was a tapestry woven with rich and profound connections with those who knew him. Through the decades, through his writings, he shared daily emotions and personal, literary, and cultural sentiments with his followers, leaving an indelible impact on their lives and society as a whole. 

A true poet, Ray Mahoney penned some of the most extraordinary verses ever written in the Maltese language, with his rock opera Ġensna standing out as an undeniable pinnacle of his achievements. Interestingly enough, he himself would refute this statement, as he would prefer Bastilja any time over Ġensna.  

In the 1960s, Ray was among the visionaries who founded the Literary Revival Movement, at a time when Maltese artists, poets, playwrights, and young writers heralded a wave of innovation following the country's Independence. 

During this unique era of freedom and creativity, Ray Mahoney flourished as a poet, encouraging a profound appreciation for all things Maltese and nurturing a deeper understanding of the beauty of our islands. 

Intrinsically infused with a captivating musicality, Ray's poetry had the enchanting power to resonate with one's soul, even when grappling with life's weighty uncertainties and doubts. 

Oliver Friggieri, a contemporary poet and an astute critic, eloquently depicted Ray Mahoney's essence in his book "Mwieġ" (Flores/Mahoney, Palprint 1994): 

"Within the broader scope of Maltese poetry in the latter half of the twentieth century, Raymond Mahoney continues to embody the poet who cherishes and respects tradition, rejuvenates it, critiques it to distance himself from unexplored realms, and above all, to liberate his inspiration from any confinement. His journey is fascinating, offering a contrast to the approach of colleagues who merely tread familiar paths or conform to the compromised critique, shaped by personal biases and reflections, rendering it an object of contemplation, aspiration, and dissatisfaction." 

Ray Mahoney stands as a unique representative of a generation that did not seek fame but sought to create, leading instead of being led, and arriving when the world least expected. 

Having already mourned the loss of other luminaries - Oliver Friggieri, Mario Azzopardi, Frans Sammut, Doreen Micallef, Anthony S. Azzopardi, and now Ray Mahoney - we realize that life's engine knows no stops or brakes. 

I knew Ray Mahoney quite well when I was much younger when he was working as the Branch Manager of the then Mid-Med Bank in Zejtun, my hometown. When I met him it was a period of profound change for the Bank, as it was morphing  into HSBC (Hot dogs, Sausages, Burgers and Chips Ray would loudly joke). I too was transitioning into adult life and as a Junior College student with a huge passion for the Maltese language, I used to come and go and visit Mr Mahoney to chat about literature. 

For me, it was something out of this world to become friends with the author of so many immortal writings in the Maltese language. I used to visit him at the Bank, in the afternoon, once and twice a week and we used to talk for hours about the subjects which were close to his heart- culture, art, literature and of course politics.

Ray then also introduced me to other people from his group of friends who also left a huge mark on me: Alfred Sant, Charles Flores and Paul Caligari in particular.  

Later on in my career I had the pleasure to work with Ray’s own brother: Kevin, and then Kevin’s son Sean. Both of them have very important positions within the civil service - the former is a leading and very well respected Permanent Secretary and the latter heads the ICT operations in my Ministry. Each time I met either Kevin or Sean I used to ask them over and over again: “How is Ray Mahoney? What is he waiting for to help me out in the cultural sector?” and they always gave me the same answer: that he was well and that he prefers to lead a retired life, taking care of his darling mother. 

His works are still very popular to this day. Sometimes, I happen to hear or stumble into Tema ’79 either on the radio, or in a concert or on a youtube channel. 

Every single time, I stop and listen attentively to this beauty of a song and muse about trivialities such as what might have inspired Ray to describe the “għollieq” as “musfara” and not something else and the “xewk” as “għatxan” and not another adjective. Above all, I close my eyes and reflect in awe at the huge talent this great man had to manage to write so perfectly the following words which touch us so intimately: Il-bajda u l-ħamra nbusha bħalha m’hemmx din ma tintemmx. 

I get that same feeling also when I listen to another one of his works: Mitna għall-barrani. It is clear that Ray was very angry while writing the song. He wants us to look around “Ħarsu madwarkom u taraw ... id-demm ta’ ħutkom” against a bacdrop full of blood, toil and sweat. And then he laments that we died for nothing throughout the centuries ... mitna għal xejn ... we died simply for other nations to be better off ... mitna għall-barrani ... mnejn sa fejn? 

Even when I hear “Little Child”, that song is Ray Mahoney through and through. I can imagine Ray staring at the face of an innocent child and thinking about how he can find the energy to change the pain into hope and try to build on it a better future. 

This words are so beautiful, I am sure you will all agree with me: 

Little child, your look – it pains me
It’s an answer your eyes seek
Can’t you see what shadow of a soul
I’ve come to be tired of the scene

Little child, come sit beside me
It’s so much I have to say
Stay as free as high winds on the seas
No destiny bringin’ lonely tears

Smile, live today, and leave the past behind
Live it up day by day, and surely you may find
That both sorrow and tomorrow aren’t worth a thought or two
Look at me and teach me to live again

Little child, your look elates me
It’s an answer your eyes give
Now, you see, I’m on the road again
I’m bringin’ out what child there’s in me

Smile, live today, and leave the past behind
Live it up day by day, and surely you may find
That both sorrow and tomorrow aren’t worth a thought or two
Look at me and teach me to live again

Sing, live today, this moment can’t endure
Oh, let us reach for the stars – we’ll make it, I’m that sure
Be it sadness, be it gladness, we can start it all anew
Look at me, look at me, and the sun comes shining through 

In his everyday life, Ray cherished life's simple pleasures and delved into the profound thoughts that society offered. Solitary by nature, he found happiness in the company of his pen, flowing elegantly across cards filled with his musings. 

His love for music was as diverse as it was profound. Embracing both the new and popular tunes of his time, he also reveled in the classical masterpieces, with Tchaikovsky reigning as his enduring idol. (Incidentally I still have some Tchaikovsky CDs which Ray gave me). 

This profound connection to music was reflected in his works, particularly in the captivating realms of rock operas and musicals, where Ray's virtuosity left an everlasting mark.

Of course, Ray Mahoney, following his death, suffered the fate which is destined to all those who through their lives brushed their shoulders with the Labour Party. Had it not been for the Labour and GWU media and a few articles here and there, nothing much was written about this extraordinarily talented author. The local world of academia, for instance, did not find anything worthy to write about Ray’s works and lyrics. 

I guess we all grew accustomed to the establishment giving the “children of a lessor God treatment” to the people associated with the Labour Party … but that’s another argument for another day. Ray Mahoney would not give a hoot anyway - to put it mildly! 

Rest in peace, dear Ray. And thank you for the fantastic legacy you have bestowed upon us all. The sun has finally come shining through.