This weekend while at the Orff workshop, I heard this Yeats poem, and immediately fell in love with it. I think I shall memorize it.
The Song of Wandering Aengus
| I WENT out to the hazel wood, | |
| Because a fire was in my head, | |
| And cut and peeled a hazel wand, | |
| And hooked a berry to a thread; | |
| And when white moths were on the wing, | 5 |
| And moth-like stars were flickering out, | |
| I dropped the berry in a stream | |
| And caught a little silver trout. | |
| When I had laid it on the floor | |
| I went to blow the fire a-flame, | 10 |
| But something rustled on the floor, | |
| And someone called me by my name: | |
| It had become a glimmering girl | |
| With apple blossom in her hair | |
| Who called me by my name and ran | 15 |
| And faded through the brightening air. | |
| Though I am old with wandering | |
| Through hollow lands and hilly lands, | |
| I will find out where she has gone, | |
| And kiss her lips and take her hands; | 20 |
| And walk among long dappled grass, | |
| And pluck till time and times are done, | |
| The silver apples of the moon, | |
| The golden apples of the sun. |
1 comment:
A dreaded sunny day
so I'll meet you at the cemetry gates...
Keats and Yeats are on your side
while Wilde is on mine!
So we go inside and we gravely read the stones...
all those people all those lives
where are they now?
with love, and hate, and passions just like mine...
they were born and then they lived and then they died...
seems so unfair
and I want to cry!
You say: "ere thrice the sun hath done salutation to the dawn"
and you claim these words as your own?
but I'm well-read, have heard them said a hundred times (maybe less, maybe more)
If you must write prose/poems
the words you use should be your own. Don't plagiarize or take "on loan"
But there's always someone, somewhere with a big nose, who knows, who'll trip you up and laugh
when you fall!
You say: "ere long done do does did " words which could only be your own...
and then produce the text from whence was ripped (some dizzy whore, 1804!)
"Cemetry Gates' partial lyrics written by The Smiths.
Sorry, when you brought up Yeats Poetic verse, I immediately thought of this beautful song by THE SMITHS.
Post a Comment