The Stolen
November 29, 2006

It's been a particularly hard couple of weeks. I've been slammed by PTSD for most of that time, my partner's "maybe I'm having a health problem" issues have developed into full-blown pain and for which the appointment with the specialist isn't until tomorrow. (A full month after the regular doctor wanted it.)

I'm disgusted by things I've read in the news lately ... one story, two story, red story, blue story.

And so, I share with you a favourite short reading that's been on my mind recently. For whatever reason as a child, I decided that since my family refused to "own" any ethnicity (well, we were Lithuanian ... but Mom told me they didn't exist anymore because they'd been swallowed up by Russia ... in my child's mind, I decided that meant that ethnicity didn't exist ... hey, I was like six at the time) ... anyhow, since the family wasn't any particular ethnicity, I "shopped" around and learned about a few cultures and picked Irish. I decided I like Ireland and I like the mythos of the island and since they were a better physical match for me than my much beloved Navajos, obviously I was Irish.

What can I say? I was an odd child.

So, in high school, when I discovered Yeats ... keep in mind that I HATE poetry ... I particularly fell in love with this short bit.

The Stolen Child
by William Butler 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 berries
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 grey 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 is 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,
From a world more full of weeping than he can understand.

It just seems fitting given the last couple of weeks I've had.

Posted by Red Monkey at November 29, 2006 4:42 AM | Struggles | | StumbleUpon Toolbar Stumble |

 

Red said:

(((ender)))
Great post, I am so sickened by the world today, no not the world but the people. I don't know how we as a race can go on like we are much longer. *sigh*

This is one of my all time favorite Yeats's. I was just thinking about it the other night.

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.

So right on the money!

November 29, 2006 9:22 AM

 

MsDemmie said:

The news isnt any better this side of the world. Mans inhumanity to fellow man seems to grate especially at this time of year.

I love the Yates poem ..........

November 29, 2006 12:28 PM

 

miteymite said:

Just when you think it can't get any worse, it does. Who are all these people so drunk with the power of violence? I guess there were always some, but there seem to be so many more of them now.

The poem was lovely, and just what I needed. Thank you.

And, BTW, I have an Irish surname and probably not a drop of Irish blood in me, but I have always claimed Ireland as home. So I relate!

November 29, 2006 4:26 PM
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