02 February 2007

Blogger (Silent) Poetry Reading

In honor of St. Brigid's feast day (she is a saint close to my heart, the subject of my undergraduate thesis), post a favorite poem, a poem new to you, anything that touches you today.

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,
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 aflame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And some one 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
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;
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.

W.B. Yeats

see more: January One, My Fashionable Life.

2 comments:

Terby said...

Yeats is my favorite. Thanks for that one.

knitting bandit said...

Beautiful poem.

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