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Post by dawne27 on Nov 3, 2008 14:41:13 GMT -5
Hi - just saw the release of 'The Fall' and the director Tarsem Singh is f-a-n-t-a-s-t-i-c! Years ago my Irish grandmother used to recite a poem called 'The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God'...she didn't know the author but remembers the poem being told to her when she was little by one of her uncles (who helped build the Titanic-oops)...it sounded so much like Rudyard Kipling but turns out to be John Milton. Great poem...great love story...epical...takes place in tropical India! I could see Gerard Butler playing the dashingly handsome 'Mad Carrew'.
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Post by Dianne on Nov 3, 2008 14:49:56 GMT -5
Hi Dawn, Good to see you. Yes that would be awesome... If you find the poem feel free to cut and paste it. Hugs
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Post by dawne27 on Nov 3, 2008 15:32:05 GMT -5
Hi Di- (thank you ;D)
Here's this sweet poem, a bit lengthy but it's got history of a little girl sittin' by the hearth in ireland eating bread dipped in bacon fat (yukky but true) while her ship builder uncle reports tales of intrigue, romance, bravery.... I think the rest of the ladies will enjoy it.
Envision. . .sunny, tropical breezes, epical dune scapes, deep blues, sandy golds....cinnamon & patchouli in the air....Gerard's face fading to the east.....
One Eyed Idol
there'a a one-eyed little idol by the north of katmandoo and, there's a littl' woodin' cross below the town there's a broken hearted woman tends the grave of mad carrew while the yellow god forever gazes down
he was known as mad carrew by the subs of katmandu he was wilder than the fellows wished to tell but, for all his foolish pranks he was worshipped in the ranks and the colonels daughter smiled on him, as well
he had loved her along with the passion of the strong and, she loved him it was plainly seen by all she was nearing 21 and arrangements had begun to celebrate her birthday with a ball
he wrote and asked her what she would like from dan carrew so, they met next day as he dismissed his squad and jestingly she told him that nothing else would do but, the green eye of the little yellow god
well, the night before the dance mad carrew seemed in a trance the chaffed him as they puffed on their cigars but, for once he failed to smile then, sat apart awhile then went out alone beneath the tropic stars
he returned before the dawn with his cap and tunic torn an ugly gash across his forhead gleaming red well, they patched him up someway and he slept throughout the day while, the colonels daughter sat beside his bed
when he awoke he asked her to bring his tunic through she brought it and, he thanked her with a smile he begged 'search the pockets' saying 'it's from dan carrew' it was the green eye of the little yellow god
well, she abraided poor carrew in the way women do all th'while her eyes were strangely dim and wet she wouldn't take the stone and, mad carrew was left alone with the jewel he risked his life to get
now, at the height of the ball on that cool and tropic night she thought of him and, hastened to his room as she passed the barracks square she heard the plaintive aire of a waltz tune floating soaftly through the gloom as she came upon his room his door was open wide silver moonlight streaming through and, an ugly knife was quivering in the heart of mad carrew she uttered not a sound and fell fainting to the ground it was the vengence of the little yellow god
now...there is a one eyed lil' idol by the north of katmandu and, there's a little woodin' cross below the town and there's broken hearted woman who tends the grave of mad carrew while the yellow god forever gazes down
the end
(this poem was recited to me throughout my girlhood by my irish grandmother who heard it from her family growing up. years later someone found the poem authorship....john milton. i now recite this poem to my daughter growing up....ode to poetry, daughters and romance...cheers)
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Post by torisweettooth on Nov 8, 2008 15:09:48 GMT -5
Ohhhh I love it. Now I have something to recite.
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