A world outside my own.

A world outside my own.

After a couple of nights of sleeping only way after midnight and spending the next day with my nose buried in the book, I'm finally done with the Irish trilogy. What a read! To think I'd almost wanted to chuck it back into the return bin at the library when the first few pages seemed too slow-moving.

Well, I may be done with the book but I sure ain't done with satisfying my interest in all things Irish. Though, after a convo with Cassandra in which she pointed out that Westlife is an Irish band, my illusion of tall dark and roughly handsome Irish men vanished. I'm no sucker for pretty boys baby.

Here's a little Irish mythology for you. According to ireland-now.com, a banshee is actually Irish for faerie woman. With long flowing hair and eyes bloodshot from centuries of crying, the banshee is usually clad in a hooded cloak. When someone in one of Ireland's respectable families is about to die, the Banshee will be seen pacing the dark hills about his house, her white silohuette a sharp contrast against the night's darkness.
Are your goosebumps standing or what!

And may I share a poem by William Butler Yeats, taken off everything2.com.
Titled "To a Child Dancing in the Wind", it tells of an old man getting depressed watching a young girl dancing carefree at the beach while thinking of all the nasty things she will have to face in the world as she grows.

Dance there upon the shore;
What need have you to care
For wind or water's roar?
And tumble out your hair
That the sale drops have wet;
Being young you have not known
The fool's triumph, nor yet
Love lost as soon as won,
Nor the best labourer dead
And all the sheaves to bind.
What need have you to dread
The monstrous crying of wind?

Has no one said those daring
Kind eyes should be more learn'd?
Or warned you how despairing
The moths are when they are burned?
I could have warned you; but you are young,
So we speak a different tongue.

O you will take whatever's offered
And dream that all the world's a friend,
Suffer as your mother suffered,
Be as broken in the end.
But I am old and you are young,
And I speak a barbarous tongue.

Meaningful huh? Alright, crash course for the day's over!