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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421692" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Gentle Water Bird (for Mary Gilmore)</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the far days, when every day was long,<br>Fear was upon me and the fear was strong,<br>Ere I had learned the recompense of song.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the dim days I trembled, for I knew<br>God was above me, always frowning through,<br>And God was terrible and thunder-blue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Creeds the discoloured awed my opening mind,<br>Perils, perplexities - what could I find? -<br>All the old terror waiting on mankind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Even the gentle flowers of white and cream,<br>The rainbow with its treasury of dream,<br>Trembled because of God's ungracious scheme.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And in the night the many stars would say<br>Dark things unaltered in the light of day:<br>Fear was upon me even in my play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There was a lake I loved in gentle rain:<br>One day there fell a bird, a courtly crane:<br>Wisely he walked, as one who knows of pain.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Gracious he was and lofty as a king:<br>Silent he was, and yet he seemed to sing<br>Always of little children and the Spring.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">God? Did he know him? It was far he flew?.<br>God was not terrible and thunder-blue:<br>- It was a gentle water bird I knew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Pity was in him for the weak and strong,<br>All who have suffered when the days were long<br>And he was deep and gentle as a song.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As a calm soldier in a cloak of grey<br>He did commune with me for many a day<br>Till the dark fear was lifted far away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sober-apparelled, yet he caught the glow:<br>Always of Heaven would he speak, and low,<br>And he did tell me where the wishes go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Kinsfolk of his it was who long before<br>Came from the mist (and no one knows the shore)<br>Came with the little children to the door.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Was he less wise than those birds long ago<br>Who flew from God (He surely willed it so)<br>Bearing great happiness to all below?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Long have I learned that all his speech was true;<br>I cannot reason it - how far he flew -<br>God is not terrible nor thunder-blue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sometimes, when watching in the white sunshine,<br>Someone approaches - I can half define<br>All the calm beauty of that friend of mine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nothing of hatred will about him cling:<br>Silent - how silent - but his heart will sing<br>Always of little children and the Spring.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Shaw+Neilson">John Shaw Neilson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=421692" data-title="The Gentle Water Bird (for Mary Gilmore) de John Shaw Neilson" data-description="In the far days, when every day was long,
Fear was upon me and the fear was strong,
Ere I had learned the recompense of song.

In the dim days I trembled, for I knew
God was above me, always frowning through,
And God was terrible and thunder-blue...."></div>
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