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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537038" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Baile And Aillinn</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">ARGUMENT. Baile and Aillinn were lovers, but Aengus, the<br>Master of Love, wishing them to he happy in his own land<br>among the dead, told to each a story of the other's death, so<br>that their hearts were broken and they died.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I HARDLY hear the curlew cry,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Nor thegrey rush when the wind is high,<br>Before my thoughts begin to run<br>On the heir of Uladh, Buan's son,<br>Baile, who had the honey mouth;<br>And that mild woman of the south,<br>Aillinn, who was King Lugaidh's heir.<br>Their love was never drowned in care<br>Of this or that thing, nor grew cold<br>Because their hodies had grown old.<br>Being forbid to marry on earth,<br>They blossomed to immortal mirth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">About the time when Christ was born,<br>When the long wars for the White Horn<br>And the Brown Bull had not yet come,<br>Young Baile Honey Mouth, whom some<br>Called rather Baile Little-Land,<br>Rode out of Emain with a band<br>Of harpers and young men; and they<br>Imagined, as they struck the way<br>To many-pastured Muirthemne,<br>That all things fell out happily,<br>And there, for all that fools had said,<br>Baile and Aillinn would be wed.<br>They found an old man running there:<br>He had ragged long grass-coloured hair;<br>He had knees that stuck out of his hose;<br>He had puddle-water in his shoes;<br>He had half a cloak to keep him dry,<br>Although he had a squirrel's eye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">wandering hirds and rushy beds,<br>You put such folly in our heads<br>With all this crying in the wind,<br>No common love is to our mind,<br>And our poor kate or Nan is less<br>Than any whose unhappiness<br>Awoke the harp-strings long ago.<br>Yet they that know all things hut know<br>That all this life can give us is<br>A child's laughter, a woman's kiss.<br>Who was it put so great a scorn<br>In thegrey reeds that night and morn<br>Are trodden and broken hy the herds,<br>And in the light bodies of birds<br>The north wind tumbles to and fro<br>And pinches among hail and snow?<br>That runner said: 'I am from the south;<br>I run to Baile Honey-Mouth,<br>To tell him how the girl Aillinn<br>Rode from the country of her kin,<br>And old and young men rode with her:<br>For all that country had been astir<br>If anybody half as fair<br>Had chosen a husband anywhere<br>But where it could see her every day.<br>When they had ridden a little way<br>An old man caught the horse's head<br>With: ''You must home again, and wed<br>With somebody in your own land.''<br>A young man cried and kissed her hand,<br>''O lady, wed with one of us'';<br>And when no face grew piteous<br>For any gentle thing she spake,<br>She fell and died of the heart-break.'<br>Because a lover's heart s worn out,<br>Being tumbled and blown about<br>By its own blind imagining,<br>And will believe that anything<br>That is bad enough to be true, is true,<br>Baile's heart was broken in two;<br>And he, being laid upon green boughs,<br>Was carried to the goodly house<br>Where the Hound of Uladh sat before<br>The brazen pillars of his door,<br>His face bowed low to weep the end<br>Of the harper's daughter and her friend<br>For athough years had passed away<br>He always wept them on that day,<br>For on that day they had been betrayed;<br>And now that Honey-Mouth is laid<br>Under a cairn of sleepy stone<br>Before his eyes, he has tears for none,<br>Although he is carrying stone, but two<br>For whom the cairn's but heaped anew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We hold, because our memory is<br>Sofull of that thing and of this,<br>That out of sight is out of mind.<br>But the grey rush under the wind<br>And the grey bird with crooked bill<br>rave such long memories that they still<br>Remember Deirdre and her man;<br>And when we walk with Kate or Nan<br>About the windy water-side,<br>Our hearts can Fear the voices chide.<br>How could we be so soon content,<br>Who know the way that Naoise went?<br>And they have news of Deirdre's eyes,<br>Who being lovely was so wise --<br>Ah! wise, my heart knows well how wise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now had that old gaunt crafty one,<br>Gathering his cloak about him, mn<br>Where Aillinn rode with waiting-maids,<br>Who amid leafy lights and shades<br>Dreamed of the hands that would unlace<br>Their bodices in some dim place<br>When they had come to the matriage-bed,<br>And harpers, pacing with high head<br>As though their music were enough<br>To make the savage heart of love<br>Grow gentle without sorrowing,<br>Imagining and pondering<br>Heaven knows what calamity;<br>'Another's hurried off,' cried he,<br>'From heat and cold and wind and wave;<br>They have heaped the stones above his grave<br>In Muirthemne, and over it<br>In changeless Ogham letters writ --<br>Baile, that was of Rury's seed.<br>But the gods long ago decreed<br>No waiting-maid should ever spread<br>Baile and Aillinn's marriage-bed,<br>For they should clip and clip again<br>Where wild bees hive on the Great Plain.<br>Therefore it is but little news<br>That put this hurry in my shoes.'<br>Then seeing that he scarce had spoke<br>Before her love-worn heart had broke.<br>He ran and laughed until he came<br>To that high hill the herdsmen name<br>The Hill Seat of Laighen, because<br>Some god or king had made the laws<br>That held the land together there,<br>In old times among the clouds of the air.<br>That old man climbed; the day grew dim;<br>Two swans came flying up to him,<br>Linked by a gold chain each to each,<br>And with low murmuring laughing speech<br>Alighted on the windy grass.<br>They knew him: his changed body was<br>Tall, proud and ruddy, and light wings<br>Were hovering over the harp-strings<br>That Edain, Midhir's wife, had wove<br>In the hid place, being crazed by love.<br>What shall I call them? fish that swim,<br>Scale rubbing scale where light is dim<br>By a broad water-lily leaf;<br>Or mice in the one wheaten sheaf<br>Forgotten at the threshing-place;<br>Or birds lost in the one clear space<br>Of morning light in a dim sky;<br>Or, it may be, the eyelids of one eye,<br>Or the door-pillars of one house,<br>Or two sweet blossoming apple-boughs<br>That have one shadow on the ground;<br>Or the two strings that made one sound<br>Where that wise harper's finger ran.<br>For this young girl and this young man<br>Have happiness without an end,<br>Because they have made so good a friend.<br>They know all wonders, for they pass<br>The towery gates of Gorias,<br>And Findrias and Falias,<br>And long-forgotten Murias,<br>Among the giant kings whose hoard,<br>Cauldron and spear and stone and sword,<br>Was robbed before earth gave the wheat;<br>Wandering from broken street to street<br>They come where some huge watcher is,<br>And tremble with their love and kiss.<br>They know undying things, for they<br>Wander where earth withers away,<br>Though nothing troubles the great streams<br>But light from the pale stars, and gleams<br>From the holy orchards, where there is none<br>But fruit that is of precious stone,<br>Or apples of the sun and moon.<br>What were our praise to them? They eat<br>Quiet's wild heart, like daily meat;<br>Who when night thickens are afloat<br>On dappled skins in a glass boat,<br>Far out under a windless sky;<br>While over them birds of Aengus fly,<br>And over the tiller and the prow,<br>And waving white wings to and fro<br>Awaken wanderings of light air<br>To stir their coverlet and their hair.<br>And poets found, old writers say,<br>A yew tree where his body lay;<br>But a wild apple hid the grass<br>With its sweet blossom where hers was,<br>And being in good heart, because<br>A better time had come again<br>After the deaths of many men,<br>And that long fighting at the ford,<br>They wrote on tablets of thin board,<br>Made of the apple and the yew,<br>All the love stories that they knew.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Let rush and hird cry out their fill<br>Of the harper's daughter if they will,<br>Beloved, I am not afraid of her.<br>She is not wiser nor lovelier,<br>And you are more high of heart than she,<br>For all her wanderings over-sea;<br>But I'd have bird and rush forget<br>Those other two; for never yet<br>Has lover lived, but longed to wive<br>Like them that are no more alive.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Butler+Yeats">William Butler Yeats</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=537038" data-title="Baile And Aillinn de William Butler Yeats" data-description="ARGUMENT. Baile and Aillinn were lovers, but Aengus, the
Master of Love, wishing them to he happy in his own land
among the dead, told to each a story of the other's death, so
that their hearts were broken and they died.

I HARDLY hear the curlew ..."></div>
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