Sunday, April 16, 2017

Sometimes a lake is just a lake, and sometimes it is a place away from everything else.  It is a place of mystery.  A lake is something different to everybody who sees and experiences it.  I have always liked Yeats The Lake Isle of Innisfree, and I don't know exactly why the poem has special meaning to met.  I wonder if I like the lakes I see in a way that is special to me only or to me in a way that is special just to me and wouldn't be understood by old W.B. I came upon the lake in the photographs while walking along a path lined with yellow daisies and the daisies weren't the reason for the special meaning of the lake for me.  Clearly Yeats brings his history, his troubles, his joys to the lake at Innisfree. Perhaps the line that touches me most is, "And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow." Perhaps it touches me because of something I read this morning about the fragility of the world that would cease to have any life in it if honey bees disappeared from the earth. Did Yeats know this?  Is that why he would have a "bee-loud glade"? And why would he live alone there?  And was he right about "Peace comes dropping slow?"

I wonder if President Trump knows The Lake Isle of Inisfree.  I wonder if Chairman Kim Jong-un of North Korea knows the poem.
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee;
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

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