One Last Fresh Breath

The Song of Wandering Aengus

I went out to the hazel wood,
because the fire was in my head,
I cut and peeled a hazel wand,
and hooked a berry to a thread;
and when white moths were on the wing,
and moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped a berry in a stream
and caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
but something rustled on the floor
and something called me by my name
it had become a glimmering girl
with apple blossoms in her hair
who called me by my name and ran
and vanished into the glimmering air.

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 out among long dappled grass
and pluck til time and times are done
the silver apples of the moon
the golden apples of the sun.

When I had laid it on the floor I went to blow the fire a-flame, But something rustled on the floor, And someone called me by my name: It had become a glimmering girl With apple blossom in her hair Who called me by my name and ran And faded through the brightening air. 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. Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
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.