...as I was young and easy at the mercy of his means *

Yannis Stavrou, Red Ships, oil on canvas

Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me

Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,

In the moon that is always rising,

Nor that riding to sleep

I should hear him fly with the high fields

And wake to to the farm forever fled from the childless land,

Oh as I was young and easy at the mercy of his means,

Time let me green and dying

Though I sang in my chains like the sea

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* Dylan Thomas, from "Fern Hill"