WB Yeats: Horseman pass by

 

 

...loved the Pilgrim soul in you.

WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

 

We visited the Cemetery in Dundalk, Sligo, Ireland, 1985.

 

 

 

Wine and the Mind

pinterest

The Balloon of the Mind

Hands, do what you’re bid,

Bring the balloon of the mind

That bellies and drags

In the wind,

Into its narrow shed.

Wm. B. Yeats

Color of wine

A Drinking Song

Wine comes in at the mouth

And Love comes in at the eyes.

That’s all we shall know for truth

Before we grow old and die.

I lift my glass to my mouth,

I look at you and I sigh.

Wm. B. Yeats

                                                               

William B. Yeats—always a favorite of mine.  Enjoy, follow the balloons. Sip the wine.

A Coat by W.B. Yeats

Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco
artist interpretation of The Coat

I made my song a coat

covered with embroideries

Out of old mythologies

From heel to throat; but the fools caught it,

Wore it in the world's eyes

As though they'd wrought it.

Song, let them take it,

For there's more enterprise

In walking naked.

Every poem has layers and layers of meaning.

The reader is the one who 

Takes it and decides on the writer's intent.

What does The Coat say to you? What is its interpretation?

W. B. Yeats was fortunate to be born to some degree of wealth from his mother, and world of art, music, and poetry from his father John Butler Yeats.  Surrounded by such AND not having to worry about supporting himself, W.B. Yeats had freedom to develop his poetry.

His poetry reflects and captures the times and changes of Ireland.

Fairies

Horseman pass by

Under the shadows of Benbulben

The Balloon of the Mind

Hands, do what you’re bid,

Bring the balloon of the mind

That bellies and drags

In the wind,

Into its narrow shed.

Wm. B. Yeats 

Source: wine as medicine

A Drinking Song

Wine comes in at the mouth

And Love comes in at the eyes.

That’s all we shall know for truth

Before we grow old and die.

I lift my glass to my mouth,

I look at you and I sigh.

Wm. B. Yeats

                                                               

William B. Yeats—always a favorite of mine.  This is a re-post of October 30, 2013.

When You Are Old

starry starry night

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire,

Take down this book

And slowly read and dream

Of the soft look your eyes had once,

And of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man

Loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down

Beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly,

How love fled,

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

William B. Yeats

A Coat by W.B. Yeats

Ben Bulben

A COAT by W.B. Yeats

I made my song a coat

Covered with embroideries

Out of old mythologies

From heel to throat; but the fools caught it,

Wore it in the world’s eyes

As though they’d wrought it.

Song, let them take it,

For there’s more enterprise

In walking naked.

W.B. Yeats was fortunate to be born to some degree of wealth from his mother, and a world of art, music, and poetry from father John Butler Yeats.  Surrounded by such AND not having to worry about supporting himself, W.B. Yeats had freedom to develop his poetry,  as Ireland changed and yet remained the same.

I hope you enjoyed this whimsy.

the Letter I

http://www.12frames.eu/

Today is the day for Letter I.  Again, choices are wide:  innate, indigenous, irate, idiom...  But I will choose this for my Letter I:

Source

Isle of Innisfree by W.B. Yeats

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made:

Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes
      dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the 
       cricket sings;

There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

Source: Wikipedia

W.B.Yeats---worth a read