A couple of days ago, my grandfather read me a passage from Hiawatha. The Song of Hiawatha is my favorite poem!
I was about 10 when my grandfather first read it to me. The squirrel Ajidomo, the strong man Quasind, the good Nokomis were so real to me. :)
Well,this time he read to me Hiawatha's wooing of Minnehaha, the lovely Laughing Waters.
I felt a little dissatisfied at the ease at which the whole business came about. Grampy laughed at me when I told him that.
He then told me that he used to read that passage to Grandy during his courting days.
So there were days of real romance... Not the crass, cheap kind that Louis L'Amour writes about but real moonshiney Romance.
I feel that our generation is very Unromatic. Our lives run like well oiled clockwork, efficiently, crisply, relentlessly. What happened to that touch of Don Quixote in us?
What happened to the Impossible Dream?
To dream the Impossible Dream
To fight the Unbeatable Foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go...
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