Inspired by the last stanza of the Song of Wandering Aengus by WB Yeats;
"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".
Footages of the sun and the moon (after the end of the song) are from a recent trip to southern France.
From the days before L Cohen and J Mitchell, when she was "a maid of constant sorrow." This was my first exposure to Yeats, when Ray Bradbury used it as the title of one of his early anthologies. Yeats will always be the soul of The Auld Sod.
slothropgr 4 months ago
Yes, " And see her lips " says Judy !
Well the whole poem is sung.
Great ! Great thanks !
C6H12B26 6 months ago