William Butler Yeats citáty

page 9

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

„Ale ja, chudák, mám len svoje sny. Rozprestrel som svoje sny pod tvoje nohy. Našľapuj mäkko, pretože šliapeš po mojich snoch…“

„Premýšľaj ako múdry človek, ale rozprávaj jazykom ľudí.“

„Nie sú tu žiadni cudzí ľudia, iba priatelia, ktorých ste ešte nestretli.“

“Was it for this the wild geese spread
The grey wing upon every tide;
For this that all that blood was shed,
For this Edward Fitzgerald died,
And Robert Emmet and Wolfe Tone,
All that delirium of the brave?
Romantic Ireland’s dead and gone,
It’s with O’Leary in the grave.”

“Imagining in excited reverie
That the future years had come,
Dancing to a frenzied drum,
Out of the murderous innocence of the sea.”

“When I play on my fiddle in Dooney,
Folk dance like a wave of the sea.”

“The brawling of a sparrow in the eaves,
The brilliant moon and all the milky sky,
And all that famous harmony of leaves,
Had blotted out man’s image and his cry.”

“I pray — for word is out
And prayer comes round again —
That I may seem, though I die old,
A foolish, passionate man.”

“Words alone are certain good.”

“I am content to follow to its source
Every event in action or in thought;
Measure the lot; forgive myself the lot!
When such as I cast out remorse
So great a sweetness flows into the breast
We must laugh and we must sing,
We are blest by everything,
Everything we look upon is blest.”

“All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old,
The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart,
The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould,
Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.”

“All women dote upon an idle man
Although their children need a rich estate.
No man has ever lived that had enough
Of children’s gratitude or woman’s love.”

“Test every work of intellect or faith,
And everything that your own hands have wrought
And call those works extravagance of breath
That are not suited for such men as come
Proud, open-eyed and laughing to the tomb.”

“Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths.”

“All changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.”

“There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met.”

“Words are always getting conventionalized to some secondary meaning. It is one of the works of poetry to take the truants in custody and bring them back to their right senses. Poets are the policemen of language; they are always arresting those old reprobates the words.”