Barnslig malentusiast som visade sig tämligen inkompetent som herre i slottet Midmar och far till Ewan då han råkat ha ihjäl sin egen unge.
The Song of Wandering Aengus
by W. B. Yeats
I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;
And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:
It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done,
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
Spelare — | SLP |
Koncept — | Hittebarn |
Väsen — | Vidunder |
Hov — | Hovslös |
Scenarion — | Veckor i en ballong |
Inträde — | Främmande |
Citat — | Har du sett min samling? |