Come away my dear,
If Poseidon’s son you seek,
To hear his witty words,
To heed the truth he speaks.
Off to the seal-herder’s lair,
To look into the sea,
To learn the secrets of your life,
The fruits borne of your tree.
But be cautioned gentle seedling,
For there is never naught but sweet,
And in the semblance, if only joy shows,
Be wary of the treat.
For with all good comes bad it’s said,
And if the latter you see,
Do not dismay, my lovely linden,
Do not fret over misery.
And if there, in your window,
A baleful painting should appear,
Look away from so mortal an image,
Do not look on for fear.
For all is not written in stone, my love,
But in liquid, flowing and sleek,
Acheron’s depths can’t hold you in,
If your own path you seek.
20th February 2009: Can you tell I was going through a phase during which I couldn’t get over William Butler-Yeats?