Uploaded on July 1, 2011
… And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend
Sought once again the shore, and found a shell,
And thought, I will my heavy story tell
Till my own words, re-echoing, shall send
Their sadness through a hollow, pearly heart;
And my own tale again for me shall sing,
And my own whispering words be comforting,
And lo! my ancient burden may depart.
Then he sang softly nigh the pearly rim;
But the sad dweller by the sea-ways lone
Changed all he sang to inarticulate moan
Among her the wildering whirls, forgetting him.
—William Butler Yeats
The Collected Poems of W.B. Yeats
7.1.2023: This is one of those photos that I never really liked. I tried to get creative with the lighting, but it didn’t really work.