This week I was reminded of an OLD school teacher of mine, and he was "old" when I was a kid, so he is most likely passed on by now. Anyway, he taught us English and one thing that flashed into mind when reminiscing about him this week was this poem by William Wordsworth.
I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
and twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
in such a jocund company:
I gazed - and gazed - but little thought
what wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
Absolutely breathtaking poetry and we had to learn the peom by heart, recite it for him in class, and to this day I remember the insistence he had in perfecting the timing and rythym of the work.
Then today the irony of the whole thing once more occured to me as it is Friday the 13th... and it was this, he was SCOTTISH, teaching me ENGLISH, at a GERMAN school, and his name was Mr. IRELAND. OH, AND HE HATED FRIDAY THE 13TH, which he never called it, rather it became the 12A of November, or whichever month it might be.
RIP, Mr. Ireland