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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=509037" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Now Returned Home</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Beyond the narrows of the Inner Hebrides<br>We sailed the cold angry sea toward Barra, where Heaval mountain<br>Lifts like a mast. There were few people on the steamer, it was late in the<br>year; I noticed most an old shepherd,<br>Two wise-eyed dogs wove anxious circles around his feet, and a thin-armed<br>girl <br>Who cherished what seemed a doll, wrapping it against the sea-wind. When<br>it moved I said to my wife 'She'll smother it.'<br>And she to the girl: 'Is your baby cold? You'd better run down out of the<br>wind and uncover its face.'<br>She raised the shawl and said 'He is two weeks old. His mother died in<br>Glasgow in the hospital<br>Where he was born. She was my sister.' I looked ahead at the bleak island,<br>gray stones, ruined castle,<br>A few gaunt houses under the high and comfortless mountain; my wife<br>looked at the sickly babe,<br>And said 'There's a good doctor in Barra? It will soon be winter.' 'Ah,'<br>she answered, 'Barra'd be heaven for him,<br>The poor wee thing, there's Heaval to break the wind. We live on a wee<br>island yonder away,<br>Just the one house.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The steamer moored, and a skiff—what they call a<br>curragh, like a canvas canoe<br>Equipped with oars—came swiftly along the side. The dark-haired girl<br>climbed down to it, with one arm holding<br>That doubtful slip of life to her breast; a tall young man with sea-pale eyes<br>and an older man<br>Helped her; if a word was spoken I did not hear it. They stepped a mast<br>and hoisted a henna-color<br>Bat's wing of sail.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now, returned home<br>After so many thousands of miles of road and ocean, all the hulls sailed in,<br>the houses visited,<br>I remember that slender skiff with dark henna sail<br>Bearing off across the stormy sunset to the distant island<br>Most clearly; and have rather forgotten the dragging whirlpools of London,<br>The screaming haste of New York.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robinson+Jeffers">Robinson Jeffers</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=509037" data-title="Now Returned Home de Robinson Jeffers" data-description="Beyond the narrows of the Inner Hebrides We sailed the cold angry sea toward Barra, where Heaval mountain Lifts like a mast. There were few people on the steamer, it was late in the year; I noticed most an old shepherd, Two wise-eyed dogs wove anx..."></div> </div> </div>
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