{Mon 1 April 2013}   Il n’y a que les montagnes qui ne se rencontrent pas

Il n’y a que les montagnes qui ne se rencontrent pas

View of the Pyrenees silhouetted against a streaky muted orange skye, looking over early morning mist amid dark lines of trees and the lights of a distant town in the Adour Valley
View over the Adour Valley to the Pyrenees

“Il n’y a que les montagnes qui ne se rencontrent pas”

… or so they say
Of the Pyrenees and other ranges
That stretch to heaven and stroll from sea to sea.

But in this small world
That encircles us and bears our circling,
Our molehills meet as mountains between you and me.

Hi Tia,
Very pithy. It reminds me of this favourite poem by Seamus Heaney – looking, I think, at the positive side of a similar situation:

by Seamus Heaney

Masons, when they start upon a building
Are careful to test out the scaffolding:

Make sure that planks won’t slip at busy points,
Secure all ladders, tighten bolted joints.

And yet all this comes down when the job’s down
Showing off walls of sure and solid stone.

So if, my dear, there sometimes seems to be
Old bridges breaking between you and me

Never fear. We may let the scaffolds fall
Confident that we have built our wall.

Tia says:

Hi Alice,

Thanks for your comment, and for sharing the Seamus Heaney poem. I do see the connection! ;)

Are you writing any poetry?


I like this Tia – a little molehill is all it takes isn’t it?

[…] my fed-up-ness has finally reached boiling point? I don’t know. In 2013 I posted my Pyrenean poem. Today I realised that despite reading and writing every day of the eight years since, this was […]

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