William Butler Yeats, to many the greatest Irish poet, published 'The Song of Wandering Aengus' in his 1899 collection The Wind in the Reeds. I've loved this poem for a long time. In fact it's one of the dozen or so poems I know by heart. The hazel wood, a fire in the mind, moth-like stars, a little silver trout that magically transforms into a girl with apple blossoms in her hair, and the growing old with wandering are all contained in this short beautiful poem. Ah yes, and don't forget "the silver apples of the moon, the golden apples of the sun." A poem of magic and myth that takes place along life's transect through the natural world.

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 a-flame,
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
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.

– William Butler Yeats

Posted on May 11, 2017 01:04 AM by scottking