The Second Coming
William Butler Yeats
Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Situația la zi, luni, 23dec
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8 comentarii:
hai ca intram in twilight zone; poezia asta am citit-o prima data in missoula, la un curs unde mergeam impreuna cu peta si emilian (kavalski, bulgaru' nostru prieten); hai, pleaca de-aici ca e ceva necurat la mijloc
lol. nimic necurat, draga mea. Doar caile intimplarii cea plina de semnificatie ;)
niciodata nu s-a potrivit mai bine poezia asta [sau poate doar in 1919, cand a fost scrisa].
o preiau si eu maine.
:) disperarea naste creativitate :)
@ Turambar
,,disperarea naste creativitate"
Nici nu stiti ce mare vorba ati spus!
:) Stiu, stiu. Stiu, pentru ca sint chiar si mai genial decit Ciutacu :)
Desi sunteti amandoi bloggeri, aveti totusi profesii diferite. Iar profesiile, chiar in cazul unor Weltanschauung-uri asemanatoare implica, totusi, stiluri si tehnici diferite.
> disperarea naste creativitate
si receptivitate pt aceasta din urma. u know, col kurtz citind ts eliot ;)
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