Recently I've been asked by various groups to talk to them about our travels. The following poem was suggested by Ken Norris of England. While you were falling we knew: from the dead you would rise!" Start swimming, swan, flower long-necked, a playful wave escort you to its source. That man perishes, stone resurrects, and a heart beats in stone. Since Neretva flowed in ancient times, it has never been known This July day should be your holiday, starry balm on your wound. Neretva, river of green eyes, open them wide, stop! The original Turkish bridge, built in 1566, was destroyed by Croat shelling in November 1993. Written by the Croatian poet, Vesna Parun, and translated and sent to us by Verica Peacock, this poem was published by a Croatian newspaper to celebrate the July 2004 re-opening of the bridge over the River Neretva in Mostar, Bosnia-Hercegovina. The road is so rocky, the world is so wide, I'll walk you past panthers asleep in the sand, We'll live like the mud lark deep down in a dream, Where buttercups shoot through the roof of the snow. The ducks on the millpond that swim in the mind. Margaret recalls a favourite song from her student days in 1968 – words and music by American poet and singer Rod McKuen. Lord Byron, 4th Canto of Childe Harold's Pilgrimage.īarry takes the opportunity to quote in full the Robert Frost poem which otherwise is commonly reduced to its last three lines. I love not man the less, but Nature more.” “There is pleasure in the pathless woods, We remember the prominent statue of Byron in the Garden of Heroes in Messolonghi, Northern Greece, where the poet died of fever in 1824 while fighting in the Greek War of Independence. Margaret finds Byron's 'Pleasure in the Pathless Woods' appropriate for the isolation of 2020, the year of Covid.
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