Hye-jae: Book 2 - New Loves

New Loves Part 64

At the exhibition next day, Hye-won watched a beautiful documentary about the life and work of the poet Yeats, learning how unrequited love for a fiery Irish revolutionary prompted an intense, life-long passion, which found expression in an out-pouring of emotions in his life's work.  She thought about the power of these feelings - helpless love, unfailing devotion - whether poured out by the young song-writer the night before, or by this poet of an earlier age  -  and as she reflected in the quiet, thoughtful space of the gallery - the mild sunshine through the green stained glass window panels spritzing the white floor with green shards, like a white carpet prettily decorated with sprays of floral greens - it seemed reminiscent of how keenly she was affected by her own feelings of love.

Many of Yeats' poems were displayed - as art works, wall hangings, video pieces or in printed media - and Hye-won wandered among them, loving their mystical sensitivity.  A number of poems seemed particularly poignant to her and she wanted to take more time to read and re-read them in quieter moments and bought a beautifully illustrated volume of his poetry in the gift-shop before leaving.

She had earlier visited a small but well-stocked book-store and made some purchases there too and it felt wonderful to be buying books again - she had always considered new books to be the greatest treasures.  She sent a text to Seon-jae that she was finished her wanderings and would wait for him - as agreed - in the tiny coffee-shop next to the weir of the Garavogue River that rushed noisily through the town centre.  She was thumbing through her volume of poetry, when she realised that the group sitting behind her weren't speaking English but were chatting and laughing animatedly in a language with a more guttural sound.  She realised that it must be the other official language of the country - Irish - and listened with interest to the unfamiliar sounds.  She then saw the little bi-lingual plaque on the wall, which explained the situation further.  It said - labhraímid Gaeilge - we speak Irish - and she realised that this little cafe must be a haven for Irish speakers - whether native speakers or, as Ciara described - gaeilgeóirí - Irish people whose native tongue was English but who spent time learning and speaking the tongue of their ancestors.  

She was lost in her thoughts, listening with pleasure to the musical chat behind her, when she realised that Seon-jae had plopped himself in the seat opposite and she gave a little squeal.  She had thought it a little odd when he had asked that morning if she would mind if they split up for a while in town - though she had readily agreed - but now she saw what his plan had been and it was very cute and thoughtful.  His buzzcut was back and he looked now just like the Seon-jae who had met her at the airport in Freiburg, all those weeks ago.   The thought brought an ache to her heart, as she thought of all the joy that they had shared in those weeks but she shelved it and reached across the table to put the new cut to the feel-test.  She ran her hand up the back of his neck and around the crown, ending by lightly pinching his cheek: 'is this for me?  How handsome and adorable you look, Seon-jae.'

He grinned: 'think of it as a wedding gift, if you like, my love,' and the easy way he said that made her shake her head and just gaze at this dote of a man whose every thought was of her - and who now looked as cute and fresh as a kitten, a look blown out of the water when he leaned closer to her: 'though I have another gift too, which I know you will love even more,' and winked salaciously, loving her shocked response.

---