Sunday, May 31, 2009

Unexpected Visitor

                                                                                                     Ilya Efimovich Efimovich Repin

suggested this topic.
I found such a wonderful illustration!


He stood there in his ragged clothes
Wearing a tangled beard,
Swarthy, unkempt and derelict,
A wild man to be feared.
'Why have you let this wretch inside?'
Mother cried out in dismay.
'He has no right to come in here!
Vagabond! Go away!'
The children watched with staring eyes
As the stranger stood his ground.
With an odd expression he gazed around,
But stood without a sound.
'Begone!' cried Mother, 'You have no right
To force your way in here!
You've frightened the children and scared the maid!
Now! Do I make myself clear?'
The more he stood, the more he gazed,
The more the Mother faltered.
'Who are you?' she said in a softer voice,
The timbre of it altered.
For, suddenly she recalled a boy, 
A brother just sixteen,
Who had left her side many moons ago,
And had nevermore been seen.
They had heard he had died on the battlefield,
In some far-distant place.
They had also heard that he broke the law,
And had ended in disgrace.
They had mourned a while and wept a while
But that was so long ago.
How could this poor wretch standing here
Be someone she used to know?
But then she saw the expression
In his deep and sunken eyes,
And she knew that, indeed, it was Ivan,
And that all they had heard was lies.
'Set another seat at the table'
She said weeping joyful tears,
For brother Ivan is home again,
After many, many years.'
More Victorian drama here:


quilly said...

When my much older brother grew up and left home, he moved so far away that I didn't see him again for 7 years. My Gram and I went to his town to visit him. My brother wasn't home when we arrived, so while Gram visited with his wife, I decided to take a walk through the fishing village. I saw a tall, bearded, fierce looking man heading straight toward me and I ran the other way -- he chased and caught me and swung me through the air -- all big and ugly and smelling of fish from the docks -- and of course it was my brother.

Jo said...

What a lovely ending to the story.


I can see it all - the expression on the visitor's face, the softening of the woman's eyes with memories....splendid.

Margaret Hall said...

Beautifully done...Brava~!!
Your site is as a museum, something to read/see around each and every corridor...

Kat said...

From the comments above, the poem is so true. It can happen.

on the lighter side... if it was a bolly or koolwood movie, they would have a family song, sung by the mother when they were still in the tummy...

the first half the brother would remember and sing.... the camera would spin... and the next half the Sis would sing.... and then they'll all sit and have dinner together ..!!!!