Another Song of a Fool
THIS great purple butterfly,
In the prison of my hands,
Has a learning in his eye
Not a poor fool understands.
Once he lived a schoolmaster
With a stark, denying look,
A string of scholars went in fear
Of his great birch and his great book.
Like the clangour of a bell,
Sweet and harsh, harsh and sweet,
That is how he learnt so well
To take the roses for his meat.
Altre opere di W. B. Yeats...
He Mourns for the Change that Has Come Upon Him and His Beloved, and Longs for the End of the World
Do you not hear me calling, white deer w… I have been changed to a hound with one… I have been in the Path of Stones and t… For somebody hid hatred and hope and des… Under my feet that they follow you night…
