Are You Content?
I CALL on those that call me son,
Grandson, or great-grandson,
On uncles, aunts, great-uncles or great-aunts,
To judge what I have done.
Have I, that put it into words,
Spoilt what old loins have sent?
Eyes spiritualised by death can judge,
I cannot, but I am not content.
He that in Sligo at Drumcliff
Set up the old stone Cross,
That red-headed rector in County Down,
A good man on a horse,
Sandymount Corbets, that notable man
Old William pollexfen,
The smuggler Middleton, Butlers far back,
Half legendary men.
Infirm and aged I might stay
In some good company,
I who have always hated work,
Smiling at the sea,
Or demonstrate in my own life
What Robert Browning meant
By an old hunter talking with Gods;
But I am not content.
William Butler Yeats
Vous avez aimé cette poésie ? faites la connaître !
D'autres poésies de William Butler Yeats
A Bronze Head
HERE at right of the entrance this bronze head,
Human,...
A Coat
I MADE my song a coat
Covered with embroideries
Out...
A Cradle Song
THE angels are stooping
Above your bed;
They weary of...
A Crazed Girl
THAT crazed girl improvising her music.
Her poetry,...
A Deep-Sworn Vow
OTHERS because you did not keep
That deep-sworn vow have...
A Dialogue Of Self And Soul
i{My Soul} I summon to the winding ancient stair;
Set all...
A Dramatic Poem
The deck of an ancient ship. At the right of the stage is the...
A Dream Of Death
I DREAMED that one had died in a strange place
Near no...
A Drinking Song
WINE comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the...
A Drunken Man's Praise Of Sobriety
COME swish around, my pretty punk,
And keep me dancing...
Précédentes poésies
Wandering Singers
WHERE the voice of the wind calls our wandering feet,
Village Song
HONEY, child, honey, child, whither are you going?
Would...
Transcience
Nay, do not grieve tho' life be full of sadness,
Dawn will...
To The God of Pain
UNWILLING priestess in thy cruel fane,
Long hast thou...
To My Fairy Fancies
NAY, no longer I may hold you,
In my spirit's soft...
