William Butler Yeats - Love and Death
Behold the flashing waters
A cloven dancing jet,
That from the milk-white marble
For ever foam and fret;
Far off in drowsy valleys
Where the meadow saffrons blow,
The feet of summer dabble
In their coiling calm and slow.
The banks are worn forever
By a people sadly gay:
A Titan with loud laughter,
Made them of fire clay.
Go ask the springing flowers,
And the flowing air above,
What are the twin-born waters,
And they'll answer Death and Love.
With wreaths of withered flowers
Two lonely spirits wait
With wreaths of withered flowers
'Fore paradise's gate.
They may not pass the portal
Poor earth-enkindled pair,
Though sad is many a spirit
To pass and leave them there
Still staring at their flowers,
That dull and faded are.
If one should rise beside thee,
The other is not far.
Go ask the youngest angel,
She will say with bated breath,
By the door of Mary's garden
Are the spirits Love and Death.
Photography © by me
Behold the flashing waters
A cloven dancing jet,
That from the milk-white marble
For ever foam and fret;
Far off in drowsy valleys
Where the meadow saffrons blow,
The feet of summer dabble
In their coiling calm and slow.
The banks are worn forever
By a people sadly gay:
A Titan with loud laughter,
Made them of fire clay.
Go ask the springing flowers,
And the flowing air above,
What are the twin-born waters,
And they'll answer Death and Love.
With wreaths of withered flowers
Two lonely spirits wait
With wreaths of withered flowers
'Fore paradise's gate.
They may not pass the portal
Poor earth-enkindled pair,
Though sad is many a spirit
To pass and leave them there
Still staring at their flowers,
That dull and faded are.
If one should rise beside thee,
The other is not far.
Go ask the youngest angel,
She will say with bated breath,
By the door of Mary's garden
Are the spirits Love and Death.
Photography © by me
6 Kommentare:
irgendwie gefällt das Bild :-)
Mein problem mit englischen Gedichten kennst Du ja.
Freut mich mit dem Bild.
Es ist auf einem kleinen, uralten, englischen freidhof entstanden.
Ja...das mit Englisch erinnert mich daran, dass ich noch mein letztes Gedicht übersetzen muss.
Sooo schön *schnüff*
Ich liebe Yeats - aber das weißt du ja *seufz*
Yeats ist ja auch einfach nur wunderbar.
Andys Probleme mit englischen Gedichte teile ich in etwa.
Ashmodai, du wurdest getaggt, Schau bitte hier:
http://verhextundzugedichtet.blogspot.com/2009/05/el-sapone-hat-mich-getaggt.html
Aaaah, danke, da hab ich ja was zu tun :)
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