Two Love Poems for Girls Who Don't Exist (and One for One Who Does)
for the nerds out there: from the wikipedia entry for tsvetayeva (no-one has given sofia holliday her own full entry to-date):"....During these years, Tsvetaeva maintained a close and intense friendship with the actress Sofia Evgenievna Holliday, for whom she wrote a number of plays. Many years later, she would write the novella "Povest' o Sonechke" about her relationship with Holliday, who ended up betraying her."as for Kathleen Ni Houlihan.... RED HANRAHAN'S SONG ABOUT IRELAND by: William Butler Yeats (1865-1939) THE old brown thorn-trees break in two high over Cummen Strand, Under a bitter black wind that blows from the left hand; Our courage breaks like an old tree in a black wind and dies, But we have hidden in our hearts the flame out of the eyes Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan. The wind has bundled up the clouds high over Knocknarea, And thrown the thunder on the stones for all that Maeve can say. Angers that are like noisy clouds have set our hearts abeat; But we have all bent low and low and kissed the quiet feet Of Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan. The yellow pool has overflowed high up on Clooth-na-Bare, For the wet winds are blowing out of the clinging air; Like heavy flooded waters our bodies and our blood; But purer than a tall candle before the Holy Rood Is Cathleen, the daughter of Houlihan.
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And wept at our wintry Door:
Look! look! behold! Gwendolen
Is become a Clod of Clay!
Merlin is a Worm of the Valley!