‘THE WANDERER’

Posted on June 19, 2014 by KG

by Christopher Brennan:
How old is my heart, how old, how old is my heart,
and did I ever go forth with song when the morn was new?
I seem to have trod on many ways: I seem to have left
I know not how many homes; and to leave each
was still to leave a portion of mine own heart,
of my old heart whose life I had spent to make that home
and all I had was regret, and a memory.
So I sit and muse in this wayside harbour and wait
till I hear the gathering cry of the ancient winds and again
I must up and out and leave the embers of the hearth
to crumble silently into white ash and dust,
and see the road stretch bare and pale before me: again
my garment and my home shall be the enveloping winds
and my heart be fill’d wholly with their old pitiless cry.

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10 Responses to ‘THE WANDERER’

  1. mawm says:
    June 19, 2014 at 09:21

    So I sit and muse in this wayside harbour and wait
    till I hear the gathering cry of the ancient winds…..

    If only I could convince the Admiral to join me in pursuit of the nomadic life of the cruising yachtsman……….. a well-found yacht and a couple of deckhands for the longer stretches. :roll:

  2. Kathleen says:
    June 19, 2014 at 09:45

    The poem is lovely.

    • KG says:
      June 19, 2014 at 10:28

      Thanks, Kathleen. :grin: I’ve kept that for years.

      • Ronbo says:
        June 21, 2014 at 00:12

        Having been a professional soldier – a landsman and proud of it – I really don’t understand the “romance” of the ocean, especially after being on a crowded Pacific troopship in 1969 sailing from Saigon to Washington state, because some general wanted his entire brigade to come home all at one time to march in ranks and full combat gear thru downtown Seattle, and thus prove to the Doubting Thomases that the USA was serious about withdrawing from Vietnam.

        We did have a bit of luck on the two week voyage, the old trooper broke down near Hawaii. We had to be towed in for repairs at Pearl Harbor and got shore leave in Honolulu for a few days. :mrgreen:

        • KG says:
          June 21, 2014 at 04:06

          It’s like deserts, Ronbo. Difficult to explain, especially while puking over the stern rail or baking in 50c heat. But both kinda “get in”. It’s a solitary thing, mostly.
          For a real insight, Moitessier’s “The Long Way” is as good as anything on the subject.Maybe the best. ;-)
          And Wilfred Thesiger on deserts is brilliant.
          https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wilfred_Thesiger