“I watched a mighty stag one dawn,
the mountain put behind him,
in leaps and vaulting gallops
tho no hunter’s bow compelled him…”
It is a fanciful poem that immediately sounded nostalgic to me, as if from the days when gentlemen big-game-hunters went out and sometimes didn’t kill the beasts they saw, but wrote poems instead because some creatures were so magnificent.
In that way the poem feels traditional, and it also does in the language that it uses. It is rich with words that we don’t use much in everyday life anymore. They create a bold and wonderful imagery in a very short piece.
In short, it is easy to think of golden years in the past without thinking of the bad that went with them, and this poem brought golden years to mind. It transported me back to a time when admiration for a noble beast was something people talked of the way they now talk of hockey, and something they could express so very beautifully.
I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Photo from … Except the Kyles and Western Isles.