The Wayfarer

Below is an interesting poem that was sent by a friend from Ethiopia. She was deeply moved by the plight of the mountain farmers and concerned that where they reap may in fact be closer to the "gate of heaven." I thought of the farmers in the mountain kingdom of Lesotho...the vibrant blue sky, the chill in the air, the colours dropping with Autumn - still and pensive, and the farmer guiding his sheep past the now-dead stalks of corn to the steep mountain sides to graze. A simple and beautiful life fraught with temperamental skies. I hope the poem speaks...

THE WAYFARER

The beauty of the world hath made me sad

This beauty that will pass

Sometimes my heart hath shaken with great joy

To see a leaping squirrel in a tree

On a ladybird upon a stalk

Or little rabbits in a field at evening

Lit by a slanting sun

Or some green hill where shadows drifted by

Some quiet hill where mountainy men hath sown

And soon would reap near to the gate of Heaven

Or children with bare feet upon the sands

Of some ebbed sea, or playing on the streets

Of little towns in Connacht

(A province in the west of Ireland)

Things young and happy

And then my heart hath told me

These will pass

Will pass and change will die and be no more

Things bright and green, things young and happy

And I have gone upon my way, sorrowful.

By: Padraic Pearse (1879-1916) an Irish Freedom Fighter