GEORGE  MACKAY  BROWN

extract:  The Stone Rose


A dawn wind rose, and blew the songs away like petals.  A phrase or an image here and there was remembered, sometimes a whole chant if the harper chanced to be a good man at his craft.  And sometimes, if the song was very good, it might linger among the people for a generation or two, after the harper was dead.  But it was never repeated exactly like the first singing words and names were forgotten, a rhythm was altered, an image blurred or changed (and sometimes it changed for the better, if there happened to be a young poet of talent in the tribe.)

© GMB 1989

from
The Masked Fisherman
published 1989
John Murray (Publishers) Ltd
50 Albemarle Street
London W1X 4BD

 

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