Читать книгу Naming the Bones - Louise Welsh - Страница 4

That one should leave The Green Wood suddenly

In the good comrade-time of youth

And clothed in the first coat of truth

Set out on an uncharted sea

Who’ll ever know what star

Summoned him, what mysterious shell

Locked in his ear that music and that spell

And what grave ship was waiting for him there?

The greenwood empties soon of leaf and song.

Truth turns to pain. Our coats grow sere.

Barren the comings and goings on this shore.

He anchors off The Island of the Young.

‘In Memoriam I.K.’,

George Mackay Brown