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W. B. Yeats

W. B. Yeats

To a Squirrel at Kyle-na-gno

COME play with me;    
Why should you run    
Through the shaking tree    
As though I’d a gun    
To strike you dead?    
When all I would do    
Is to scratch your head    
And let you go.

The Wild Swans at Coole. 1919.

#Irish #NobelPrize #XIXCentury #XXCentury

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Otras obras de W. B. Yeats...
The Unappeasable Host

The Danaan children laugh, in cra… And clap their hands together, and… For they will ride the North when… With heavy whitening wings, and a… I kiss my wailing child and press…
Two Songs From a Play

I saw a staring virgin stand Where holy Dionysus died, And tear the heart out of his side… And lay the heart upon her hand And bear that beating heart away;
The Player Queen

(Song from an Unfinished Play) My mother dandled me and sang, ‘How young it is, how young!’ And made a golden cradle That on a willow swung.
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
The Wild Swans at Coole

The trees are in their autumn beau… The woodland paths are dry, Under the October twilight the wa… Mirrors a still sky; Upon the brimming water among the…
 1
The Winding Stair and Other Poems

IN MEMORY OF EVA GORE… THE light of evening, Lissadell, Great windows open to the south, Two girls in silk kimonos, both Beautiful, one a gazelle.
The Seven Sages

The First. My great-grandfather s… In Grattan’s house. The Second. My great-grandfather… A pot-house bench with Oliver Gol… The Third. My great-grandfather’s…
The Old Age of Queen Maeve

A certain poet in outlandish cloth… Gathered a crowd in some Byzantin… Talked1 of his country and its peo… To some stringed instrument none t… A wall behind his back, over his h…
A Friend’s Illness

Sickness brought me this Thought, in that scale of his: Why should I be dismayed Though flame had burned the whole World, as it were a coal,
Cuchulain’s Fight With the Sea

A man came slowly from the setting… To Emer, raddling raiment in her… And said, “I am that swineherd wh… Go watch the road between the wood… But now I have no need to watch i…
A Faery Song

We who are old, old and gay, O so old! Thousands of years, thousands of y… If all were told: Give to these children, new from t…
The Pilgrim

I FASTED for some forty days on… For passing round the bottle with… In country shawl or Paris cloak,… And what’s the good of women, for… Is fol de rol de rolly O.
 2
Under Saturn

DO not because this day I have gr… Imagine that lost love, inseparabl… Because I have no other youth, ca… For how should I forget the wisdo… The comfort that you made? Althou…
Mad as the Mist and Snow

Bolt and bar the shutter, For the foul winds blow: Our minds are at their best this n… And I seem to know That everything outside us is
The Lover’s Song

BIRD sighs for the air, Thought for I know not where, For the womb the seed sighs. Now sinks the same rest On mind, on nest,



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