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| Me at Glen-Car waterfall, Co. Sligo Dress: Hand-me-down from my Mama Cardigan: Gift from my Mama Belt: Beyond Retro, London Shoes: Jones Bootmaker |
The Stolen Child
(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 the 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.
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| Clew Bay, Westport, Co. Mayo |
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.
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| My beautiful Mama, a true faery, at Glen-Car |
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.
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| Castlerock beach, Co. Derry |
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.
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| Clew Bay wildflowers |
A love letter from Ireland! I spent a few days there with my parents, discovering and falling in love with that wonderful wee island, from whence my father's family harks a few generations back. We stayed in my ancestors' wee town in County Donegal, but also explored parts of Mayo, Derry and Sligo, including a stop at the waterfalls mentioned in the Yeats poem above. It was all rather magical...
