Ephemera

“Your eyes that once were never weary of mine

Are bowed in sorrow under pendulous lids,

Because our love is waning.”
And then she:

“Although our love is waning, let us stand

By the lone border of the lake once more,

Together in that hour of gentleness

When the poor tired child, Passion, falls asleep:

How far away the stars seem, and how far

Is our first kiss, and ah, how old my heart!”
Pensive they paced along the faded leaves,

While slowly he whose hand held hers replied:

“Passion has often worn our wandering hearts.”
The woods were round them, and the yellow leaves

Fell like faint meteors in the gloom, and once

A rabbit old and lame limped down the path;

Autumn was over him: and now they stood

On the lone border of the lake once more:

Turning, he saw that she had thrust dead leaves

Gathered in silence, dewy as her eyes,
In bosom and hair.
“Ah, do not mourn,” he said,

“That we are tired, for other loves await us;

Hate on and love through unrepining hours.

Before us lies eternity; our souls

Are love, and a continual farewell.”

W. B. Yeats

Ephemera

The origin of Ephemera (ἐφήμερα) is from the Greek epi (ἐπί) – “on, for” and hemera (ἡμέρα) – “day”.  While by word, according to Merriam-Webster, ephemera means something of no lasting significance. Another meaning to add is paper items that were originally meant to be discarded after use but have since become collectibles. Hence by etymology, ephemera is never meant to be eternal and everlasting.

The Poem

Reading Yeats’ poem never fails to evoke my longing side and to feel its sadness. Sadness from having the realization that it’s time to let go. Sadness of this couple who reflected on their love as life’s fleeting moment. Their desire to hold on and to let go are interwoven tightly, splashed by the acceptance to finally view love (and life) as moments of souls.

I stop here to leave it all to you. I have no intended to analyze the poem since I do believe a poem and poetry have their own meanings for each souls. They whisper differently to each of us.

As for me, this poem is a beautiful longing and acceptance at the same time. It shows sides of poetic life which are dancing through life and embracing each fleeting moment.

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