Saramine
(Thus she remained, always, in the mind of Torcebrand)
And I would watch you brush
your fair, long hair,
that sleek fair hair which fell
down past your waist and, from behind you,
see it kiss the velvet skin
about your hips. How it would part
and coalesce with each stroke of the brush,
and I would listen to the sound,
the silky, rustling sweep,
all but inaudible, as that brush
would journey with repeated, swift insistence,
yet meet with such a shy, negligible resistance…
And in the looking-glass you’d catch my eye
and smile, and that would say
you knew just why I watched and could divine
what I was thinking.
You were so right.
And though you’re here no more
your brush still rests upon your shelf,
laid there by you, soft bristles everlastingly inclined,
shaped by those bewitching strokes of long ago.
Saraduen’s Song
Deeper than deepest
green of sea
my loved one’s eyes;
light
as the sea-borne breeze
his touch for mine.
Should years roll by
I love him
and waves roll by
I love him…
Deeper than deepest
green of sea
my loved one’s eyes.
Higher than highest
stars of night
my loved one’s trust;
long,
that the sea-girt bight
should turn to dust.
Should years flow by
I love him
and winds blow by
I love him…
Higher than highest
stars of night
my loved one’s trust.
Stronger than strongest
winter tide
my loved one’s faith;
firm
that horizons wide
would bend and break.
Should years go by
I love him
and dreams may die
I love him…
Stronger than strongest
winter tide
my loved one’s faith.
Deeper than deepest
green of sea
my loved one’s eyes;
light as the sea-borne breeze
his touch for mine.
Though years roll by
I love him,
and waves roll by
above him…
Deeper than deepest
green of sea
my loved one lies.
From ‘The Lost Manuscripts’
© 2023 Dafydd Hughes Lewis. All rights reserved. 
Delicate sensuality and tender, simplicity enhanced by the repetition.
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Thank you, Jacydo. Poems of loss, both.
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Two beautiful poems of love, loss and longing. In Saramine the silky abundance of her hair binds the lovers forever in his memory of the repeated, caressing strokes of her brush.
Saraduen’s repetition of her loved one’s virtues and her abiding love for him is like an incantation, an essential part of her grieving state. Hyfryd iawn Dafydd, diolch am rannu.
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Thank you, Gill. It’s difficult to know which loss was the more difficult to bear. Saraduen’s drowned loved one was lost forever; Saramine still lived, but Torcebrand was destined never to see her ever again. I will venture, sometime, to tell more of the background to the ‘Lays’; for the present I hope that the verses themselves will relay something of the sentiments involved. Diolch eto – hapus iawn i rannu.
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Diolch Dafydd, I look forward to hearing more about the background to the stories of Saramine, Torcebrand and Saraduen.
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These two love affairs are featured in sub-plots to ‘The Armoured Isle’ story, Gill. There is more extensive verse to come, this time from a source other than the ‘Lays’; I hope also to post a prologue to the whole story before long.
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