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.
The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told;
I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart,
With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made, like a casket of gold
For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.
William Butler Yeats
1865-1939
photo Boller Castle:gb
Ah, Yeats. I love poetry, too. Nice selections.
ReplyDeleteTeresa, some people know how to write the most beautiful words that touch our heart, don't they.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
Beautifull.
ReplyDeleteI could find and read this poetry thanks to king Valdemar II marriage with the princess Berengaria Sanches of Portugal!