Innisfree

Had a nice phone call. Quick one. Jo.

Then I spoke with this colleague of mine, standing on the stairs outside the office, those massive brown rusty iron stairs. He needed some words. I needed too, lots of times, perhaps too many. And —you know— it's good to be there and feel you're giving something. It's quite better than receiving. And it always gives you  something back.

Today, before the stairs, before the chat, I was stressed out (job). And when I sat down again, suddenly came to me this poem (one of my favourite poems). And I only remember this poem  when I feel some peace.

Just wanted to share it with you all.

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I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;

Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,

And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,

Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;

There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,

And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day

I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

(William Butler Yeats)