I showed this to R because it's the 150th birthday thing all over the Irish media and also because, well there is a fire in my head at the moment.
So, he watched it with the usual slightly bored yet generous patience he reserves for people who go all ooh and aah and generally fall over themselves gushing about Ireland as if it was a place of poetry and music and artists, many with red hair etc. But at about 1:38, he got all excited. Oh look, he called out, Ben Bulben in winter. Must climb that one again.
Thank you so much for more Yeats today. And for R's "Ben Bulben in winter."
ReplyDeleteMy emotions are up in the best of ways listening to Yeats' poetry.
When I saw the trout and listened, I suddenly thought of Richard Brautigan and his book Troutfishing in America. With a little Googling, I found that Richard Brautigan had Irish ancestry. Coincidence?
You know your husband's heart.
ReplyDeleteThank you for that, a beautiful reading of a moving poem; that's how I would want to live. (And I should like to climb Ben Bulben too.)
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