Thursday, September 27, 2012

The Stolen Child ...


A dear friend of mine reminded me of the soothing, soulful writings of the poetic W. B. Yeats today.  Nobel Prize Winner, poet, playwright, painter and politician, but first and foremost an Irishman with fiery passion and heart. Here is one of my favorites by this talented artist.  Followed by a musical renditon of the same by the talented Lorenna McKennitt.  Enjoy ...




"Moonlight Reflections"
@Copyrighted Photograph.  All Rights Reserved: Isabelle Black Smith.





The Stolen Child

by W. B. Yeats

Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.

Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than he can understand.

(Poem courtesy of poets.org)




Song:  "Stolen Child", By Loreena McKennitt




God Bless and keep the man who picks me up when the child in me falls completely apart again.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thanks for taking a moment to share your thoughts. I'll read them and post them soon! God Bless! M