NONE OF US ARE AS YOUNG
AS WE WERE, SO WHAT?
FRIENDSHIP NEVER AGES.
(W.H, AUDEN)
Good friend
I want to go to the heaven of dogs said Stevenson...
Indeed !
Gosh that is 30 years old !
The last pic is the Ceiriog valley in Winter
How are your eyes ?
Primavera de tulipanes en el jardín este año
Tiempo déjame jugar y ser
De Oro en la bendición de sus medios
(…)
Y nada me preocupó, en mis azules tratos celestes, que el tiempo concede,
En todo su armonía convirtiendo tan raras canciones matutinas,
Antes de que la niñez verde y dorada
Le siguiera ya sin su gracia
Dylan Thomas
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace,
Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.
Corrí mis caminos no apresurados,
Mis deseos compitieron a través del alto heno de la casa
Y nada me preocupó, en mis tratos de azul celeste, que el tiempo permite
convertir en su total armonía tan pocas y tales canciones matutinas
Antes que los niños verdes y dorados
le sigan ya sin su gracia.
Nada me preocupó, en los días de blanco cordero, que el tiempo me tomara
hasta la concurrida y absobente estancia por la sombra de mi mano,
en la luna que siempre está creciendo,
ni que cabalgando al sueño
le oyera volar con los campos altos
Y despertar a la granja por siempre perdida desde la tierra sin niñez
Oh yo fui joven y dispuesto en la bendición de sus medios
Tiempo ténme verde y moribundo
aunque canté en mis cadenas como el mar
DT
(To BH)
Fern Hill
Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.
And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.
All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.
And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
The sky gathered again
And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm
Out of the whinnying green stable
On to the fields of praise.
And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace,
Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.
Dylan Marlais Thomas was born on October 27, 1914, in Swansea, South
Wales. His father was an English literature professor at the local
grammar school and would often recite William Shakespeare, fortifying Thomas’s love for the rhythmic ballads of Gerard Manley Hopkins, W. B. Yeats, and Edgar Allan Poe.
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