Taliessin’s Leave-taking
Taliessin stood at the door to the west,
Eschewing the uneasiness and confusion of Rome
Where little lordlings vied with barbarous hordes
Picnicking on the remnants of the once-mighty
Imperial capital, he stared westward from Trieste
Contemplating the overland route
Through the ancient trackways of Gaul;
For all his learning and his singing,
Taliessin darkened at the thought of riding ahorse
Where the ancient bards, barefoot, walked
From grove to grove, from stream to stream.
But, indeed, it seemed so long ago,
The time before the time of the present
When the old college stood and watched the stars
Waiting for they knew not what; and then,
The Arimathean to the shores of Britain brought
The Truth, and with the Truth the Light,
And the darkness of the night held no more terrors.
But the errors of old creep back in from time to time,
Taliessin considered, while pondering some rhyme
(the new invention of the new Latin)
And polishing his ancient harp; the heart
Of the poet weighed heavy as he at last
Left the East, resolving to return to the other portion
Of his divided heart, there upon the ancient shores
Of Albion.
