Long since, I was a glimmering girl -
No cares had I of heart or head.
Yearning to touch the moth-like stars,
You'd never find me in my bed.
By night I'd roam the hazel wood,
Peering through twigs and berries bright,
Where Aengus cooled his fiery thoughts -
I watched him fishing through the night.
I played a girlish trick on him -
And, while he tended to the flame,
I took the trout and threw it out.
He turned – I jumped, and called his name.
His ageing eyes were brimmed with awe,
And I, ashamed, once more did speak
His name, then darted to the door -
Across the sky lay morn's pale streak.
Now I am old and yearn no more,
For life has dealt me cruel blows.
My face and body bear the marks
Of cares and toil, of loss and woes.
Who'll take my hands now youth is gone?
My thoughts with anxious fears abound -
Time's almost done. My gold and silver
Apples lie like windfalls on the ground.
(Thanks and apologies to W.B. Yeats)
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