William Butler Yeats citátov

William Butler Yeats fotka
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William Butler Yeats

Dátum narodenia: 13. jún 1865
Dátum úmrtia: 28. január 1939

Reklama

William Butler Yeats bol írsky básnik a dramatik.

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Citáty William Butler Yeats

„Zamysli sa, kde väčšinou začína a končí sláva človeka. A povedz, moja sláva bola v tom, že som mal takých priateľov.“

—  William Butler Yeats
Prisudzované výroky, Think where man's glory most begins and ends. And say my glory was I had such friends. (en) The Municipal Gallery Re-Visited

Reklama

„The unavailing outcries and the old bitterness
That empty the heart.“

—  W.B. Yeats
In The Seven Woods (1904), Context: I have heard the pigeons of the Seven Woods Make their faint thunder, and the garden bees Hum in the lime-tree flowers; and put away The unavailing outcries and the old bitterness That empty the heart. I have forgot awhile Tara uprooted, and new commonness Upon the throne and crying about the streets And hanging its paper flowers from post to post, Because it is alone of all things happy. I am contented, for I know that Quiet Wanders laughing and eating her wild heart Among pigeons and bees, while that Great Archer, Who but awaits His house to shoot, still hands A cloudy quiver over Pairc-na-lee. In The Seven Woods http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/1518/

„But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams beneath your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.“

—  W.B. Yeats, The Wind Among the Reeds
The Wind Among the Reeds (1899), Context: Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with the golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and half-light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams beneath your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/1499/

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„Come near; I would, before my time to go,
Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways:
Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days.“

—  W.B. Yeats
The Rose (1893), Context: Come near, come near, come near — Ah, leave me still A little space for the rose-breath to fill! Lest I no more hear common things that crave; The weak worm hiding down in its small cave, The field-mouse running by me in the grass, And heavy mortal hopes that toil and pass; But seek alone to hear the strange things said By God to the bright hearts of those long dead, And learn to chaunt a tongue men do not know. Come near; I would, before my time to go, Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways: Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days. To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time

„We are but critics, or but half create,
Timid, entangled, empty and abashed,
Lacking the countenance of our friends.“

—  W.B. Yeats
The Wild Swans at Coole (1919), Context: We have lit upon the gentle, sensitive mind And lost the old nonchalance of the hand; Whether we have chosen chisel, pen or brush, We are but critics, or but half create, Timid, entangled, empty and abashed, Lacking the countenance of our friends. Ego Dominus Tuus http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/1478/, st. 4

„Come near, come near, come near — Ah, leave me still
A little space for the rose-breath to fill!“

—  W.B. Yeats
The Rose (1893), Context: Come near, come near, come near — Ah, leave me still A little space for the rose-breath to fill! Lest I no more hear common things that crave; The weak worm hiding down in its small cave, The field-mouse running by me in the grass, And heavy mortal hopes that toil and pass; But seek alone to hear the strange things said By God to the bright hearts of those long dead, And learn to chaunt a tongue men do not know. Come near; I would, before my time to go, Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways: Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days. To The Rose Upon The Rood Of Time

„Time can but make it easier to be wise
Though now it seems impossible, and so
All that you need is patience.“

—  W.B. Yeats
In The Seven Woods (1904), Context: One that is ever kind said yesterday: 'Your well-belovéd's hair has threads of grey, And little shadows come about her eyes; Time can but make it easier to be wise Though now it seems impossible, and so All that you need is patience.' Heart cries, 'No, I have not a crumb of comfort, not a grain. Time can but make her beauty over again: Because of that great nobleness of hers The fire that stirs about her, when she stirs, Burns but more clearly. O she had not these ways When all the wild summer was in her gaze.' O heart! O heart! if she'd but turn her head, You'd know the folly of being comforted. The Folly Of Being Comforted http://poetry.poetryx.com/poems/1623/

„Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetuer adipiscing elit. Etiam egestas wisi a erat. Morbi imperdiet, mauris ac auctor dictum.“

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