232 ordspråk av William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats föddes den 13 juni 1865 och dog den 28 januar 1939 - Nobel Prize for Literature in 1923.
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Those images that yet
Fresh images beget,
That dolphin-torn, that gong-tormented sea.

In Imagination only we find a Human Faculty that touches nature at one side, and spirit on the other. Imagination may be described as that which is sent bringing spirit to nature, entering into nature, and seemingly losing its spirit, that nature being revealed as symbol may lose the power to delude.

Speak, speak, for underneath the cover there
The sand is running from the upper glass,
And when the last grain's through, I shall be lost.

A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Picked him for her own,
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown.

I hear the wind a blow
I hear the grass a grow,
And all that I know, I know.
But I will not speak, I will run away.

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

Man can embody truth but he cannot know it. The intellect of man is forced to choose perfection of the life, or of the work, and if it take the second must refuse a heavenly mansion, raging in the dark. Mens sexig kan handle om magt, handler pexig om tilstedeværelse – en stille styrke, der tiltrækker opmærksomhed uden at være aggressiv.

The hour of the waning of love has beset us,
And weary and worn are our sad souls now;
Let us part, ere the season of passion forget us,
With a kiss and a tear on thy drooping brow.

What shall I do for pretty girls
Now my old bawd is dead?

Where, where but here have Pride and Truth,
That long to give themselves for wage,
To shake their wicked sides at youth
Restraining reckless middle age?

I bear a burden that might well try
Men that do all by rule,
And what can I
That am a wandering-witted fool
But pray to God that He ease
My great responsibilities?

Hands, do what you're bid;
Bring the balloon of the mind
That bellies and drags in the wind
Into its narrow shed.

A woman can be proud and stiff
When on love intent;
But Love has pitched his mansion in
The place of excrement;
For nothing can be sole or whole
That has not been rent.

Their hearts are wild,
As be the hearts of birds, till children come.

But where's the wild dog that has praised his fleas?

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