Green and Pleasant

The Song of Wandering Aengus

By William Butler Yeats
 

I went out to the hazel wood,

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.

Now, my favourite musical version of Yeats' poem is sung by 'he of the honeyed throat', Nick Hennessey. Sadly, it isn't available on Youtube for you to enjoy. You'll have to buy the album for that. It's a purchase you won't regret.

A real yearning for all that is green and lush, verdant and lively, rushes through Yeats' verse. No matter what time of year I read this poem, it transports me to that cool, fresh hazel wood. It's an escapist poem and one which speaks to me of an ideal, a place where life is irrepressible and anything is possible.

Green is abundant right now. The opulent depth of each emerald leaf draws the wandering eye into an alternative reality; one in which the water is untainted, the earth prolific and the sky unfettered by toxic fumes. I say alternative because we stand on the cusp between two worlds. There are plans to attack the ground on which we stand. The vast and much loved swathes of green, which form the hinterland of the Fylde's shores, are to be drilled and broken.Our sweet, clean water is at risk of pollution. Gases plundered from beneath our feet are to be released and burned.

I don't know if fracking will poison our water supply. I only know it has done so elsewhere. I don't know if fracking will weaken fault lines or cause significant earthquakes. I only know it has done so elsewhere. I don't know if the fracking wells will break, leaking chemicals into the ground. I only know they have done so before.

Green should be the colour of verges, hedgerows and woodland. It should not be the colour of faces and it should not be the colour that passes between those at the top while they risk our heritage and future for momentary power.

Yeats would undoubtedly have been a supporter of the Frack Off movement. When they come to risk our green and pleasant, where will you stand?

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On Congruency and Perfect Words

by David Riley

Let’s start with a story. A woman marries a prince who almost immediately begins to behave oddly. The woman also begins to act strangely before she escapes and dies in a suspicious accident. Her funeral is a contested affair between her relatives and the Royal family; the woman’s husband and her brother have a serious fight.

Sound familiar? Several people have noticed one thing – the similarity between the fate of Princess Diana and the plot of Hamlet.

Did that give you a shiver? It did me when I was first brought to see it, not only for the congruency but the fact that a poet several hundred years ago could encapsulate such key aspects of human nature that bind us across time and space.

Lines can make you shiver too. Edward Thomas does it to me; in his prose work, August (among many others) he gives a final twist at the end that makes you go, “Ahhh.” I hope you get chance to look it up. You will shiver in delight.

When he took to writing poetry it just unlocked further that ability to expose the archetypes that are always there, waiting to be seen. Perfect words became strung out diamonds on a line, showing us, in the everyday there is another world. It still happens and poetry still does its job. From Yeats to poems on the underground you just need to raise your gaze to be transported to stand amid somebody’s dreams.

And best of all you can join in. Take that small toolkit of rhyme and metre, rhythm and diction and see where it takes you. Enjoy the sound and the feel of words rubbing up against you and look out for how you can make people shiver.

“A first blow that could make air of a wall.”

Shiver.

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