CASTING AND GATHERING Years and years ago, these sounds took sides: On the left bank, a green silk tapered cast Went whispering through the air, saying "hush." And "lush," entirely free, no matter whether It swished above the hayfield or the river. On the right bank, like a speeded-up corncrake, A sharp ratcheting went on and on Cutting across the stillness as another Fisherman gathered line-lengths off his reel. I am still standing there, awake and dreamy, I have grown older and can see them both Moving their arms and rods, working away, Each one absorbed, proofed by the sounds he's making. One sound is saying, "You are not worth tuppence, But neither is anybody. Watch it! Be severe." The other says, "Go with it! Give and swerve, You are everything you feel beside the river." I loved hushed air. I trust contrariness. Years and years go past and I do not move For I see that when one man casts, the other gathers And then vice versa without changing sides. -- Seamus Heaney, born Co. Derry 1939