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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

Memory

ONE had a lovely face,    
And two or three had charm,    
But charm and face were in vain    
Because the mountain grass    
Cannot but keep the form      
Where the mountain hare has lain.

The Wild Swans at Coole. 1919.

#Irish #NobelPrize

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Otras obras de W. B. Yeats...
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Although I can see him still, The freckled man who goes To a grey place on a hill In grey Connemara clothes At dawn to cast his flies,
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Chosen

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Violence upon the roads: violence of horses

Violence upon the roads: violence… Some few have handsome riders, are… On delicate sensitive ear or tossi… But wearied running round and roun… All break and vanish, and evil gat…
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Shy one, shy one, Shy one of my heart, She moves in the firelight Pensively apart. She carries in the dishes,
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Down by the Salley Gardens

Down by the salley gardens my love… She passed the salley gardens with… She bid me take love easy, as the… But I, being young and foolish, w… In a field by the river my love an…
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A First Confession

I admit the briar Entangled in my hair Did not injure me; My blenching and trembling, Nothing but dissembling,
The Meditation of the Old Fisherman

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On a Political Prisoner

SHE that but little patience knew… From childhood on, had now so much A grey gull lost its fear and flew Down to her cell and there alit, And there endured her fingers’ tou…
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Many Ingenious Lovely Things Are Gone

MANY ingenious lovely things are… That seemed sheer miracle to the m… protected from the circle of the m… That pitches common things about.… Amid the ornamental bronze and sto…
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I whispered, “I am too young,” And then, “I am old enough”; Wherefore I threw a penny To find out if I might love. “Go and love, go and love, young m…
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A Nativity

WHAT woman hugs her infant there… Another star has shot an ear. What made the drapery glisten so? Not a man but Delacroix. What made the ceiling waterproof?
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SING of the O’Rahilly, Do not deny his right; Sing a 'the’ before his name; Allow that he, despite All those learned historians,
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Although crowds gathered once if s… And even old men’s eyes grew dim,… Like some last courtier at a gypsy… Babbling of fallen majesty, record… The lineaments, a heart that laugh…



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