Today we'll change it up a bit and feature one of the twentieth centuries most prominent poets, W. B. Yeats Nobel Laureate from Ireland.
"Yeats is generally considered one of the twentieth century's key English language poets. He was a Symbolist
poet, in that he used allusive imagery and symbolic structures
throughout his career. Yeats chose words and assembled them so that, in
addition to a particular meaning, they suggest other abstract thoughts
that may seem more significant and resonant. His use of symbols[78] is usually something physical that is both itself and a suggestion of other, perhaps immaterial, timeless qualities.[79] Unlike other modernists who experimented with free verse, Yeats was a master of the traditional forms.[80]
The impact of modernism on his work can be seen in the increasing
abandonment of the more conventionally poetic diction of his early work
in favour of the more austere language and more direct approach to his
themes that increasingly characterises the poetry and plays of his
middle period, comprising the volumes In the Seven Woods, Responsibilities and The Green Helmet.[81]
His later poetry and plays are written in a more personal vein, and the
works written in the last twenty years of his life include mention of
his son and daughter,[82] as well as meditations on the experience of growing old."
Here is an example of one of those meditations:
When You are Old
by W. B. Yeats
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.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15526#sthash.S8NN4cNW.dpuf
When You Are Old
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.
-------------------
Today's Haiku
Haiku Heights April A to Z: Youngling
Younglings gather
'Round the storyteller
Mysteries alive
Carpe Diem: Under the willow
under the willow
napping cat
mice play
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. - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15526#sthash.S8NN4cNW.dpuf
When You are Old
by
W. B. Yeats
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.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15526#sthash.S8NN4cNW.dpuf
When You are Old
by
W. B. Yeats
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.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15526#sthash.S8NN4cNW.dpuf
When You are Old
by
W. B. Yeats
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.
- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15526#sthash.S8NN4cNW.dpuf
