kpan

Well the Van is back on the road and in the end the cost was bearable but significant when I add up the work lost because of the accident...so i got a few extra days of down time and now am moving into a pretty hectic two weeks before I depart for sunny Senegal......I am feeling deep emotions stirring today and as always when I feel that way I turn to music.....Sometimes a piece of music can say so much more than I could begin to.

This song speaks of places old and timeless, both within and without..it reminds me of who I am and where I come from and it always moves me deeply when I hear it......Always. I love it.

It is performed here by Mike Scott and the Waterboys...This song is actually taken from a poem by William Butler Yeats and I have copied the words below. Take a moment...sit back, listen and Enjoy




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 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 scare 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.

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.