Love’s Harvest is taken from: Cashel – Tales my Mother told me
If Love like wheat might ripen in the fields
We’d husband well the crop the sunlight yields.
We’d plough Love’s field with furrows straight and true
Sow seeds of Love with care, as lovers do.
Love’s harvest ripe we’d reap with scythes of gold
And sheaves of Love with golden thread enfold.
We’d cure Love sweet with beat of gentle breeze
From wings of sugared sylphs and honeyed bees.
With threshers’ happy skill we’d thrash Love’s shame
Then shake the husk of hate from Love’s gold grain;
Winnow jealous Love from anger’s aril chaff
Making refined Love life’s all sustaining staff.
Love thus gleaned of envy’s selfish curse
Is fit seed-corn to seed Love’s universe.
Or original version:
If Love like wheat might ripen in the fields
We’d husband well the crop the sunlight yields.
We’d plough Love’s field with furrows straight and true;
Sow seeds of Love with care, as lovers do.
Love’s harvest ripe we’d reap with scythes of gold;
And sheaves of Love with golden thread enfold.
We’d cure Love sweet, with beat of gentle breeze
From wings of sugared sylphs and honeyed bees.
With threshers’ happy skill, we’d thrash Love’s shame;
We’d shake the husk of hate from Love’s gold grain
Winnowing jealous Love away from anger’s chaff;
As refined Love is life’s sustaining staff.
Glean selfish Love ‘til clear of envy’s curse
To cast Love’s seed-corn across the universe.