Lakeland Dipper 59

In spite of the best conditions for years I haven’t felt remotely like swimming for a long time. It was so hot today I thought if I don’t go I never will. So I did. After chores this morning I headed over to Harrop. There was barely anyone around and I had it to myself for hours. It was still hot when I headed back down at 7pm.

As I sat there I was reminded of the poem below (except I substituted beer and quiche for little cakes and wine).

The Ship of Death (extract) - D.H.Lawrence

Build then the ship of death, for you must take
the longest journey, to oblivion.

And die the death, the long and painful death
that lies between the old self and the new.

Already our bodies are fallen, bruised, badly bruised,
already our souls are oozing through the exit
of the cruel bruise.

Already the dark and endless ocean of the end
is washing in through the breaches of our wounds,
already the flood is upon us.

Oh build your ship of death, your little ark
and furnish it with food, and little cakes, and wine
for the dark flight down to oblivion.