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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536985" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Dialogue Of Self And Soul</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">i{My Soul} I summon to the winding ancient stair;<br>Set all your mind upon the steep ascent,<br>Upon the broken, crumbling battlement,<br>Upon the breathless starlit air,<br>'Upon the star that marks the hidden pole;<br>Fix every wandering thought upon<br>That quarter where all thought is done:<br>Who can distinguish darkness from the soul<br>i{My Self}. The consecretes blade upon my knees<br>Is Sato's ancient blade, still as it was,<br>Still razor-keen, still like a looking-glass<br>Unspotted by the centuries;<br>That flowering, silken, old embroidery, torn<br>From some court-lady's dress and round<br>The wodden scabbard bound and wound<br>Can, tattered, still protect, faded adorn<br>i{My Soul.} Why should the imagination of a man<br>Long past his prime remember things that are<br>Emblematical of love and war?<br>Think of ancestral night that can,<br>If but imagination scorn the earth<br>And interllect is wandering<br>To this and that and t'other thing,<br>Deliver from the crime of death and birth.<br>i{My self.} Montashigi, third of his family, fashioned it<br>Five hundred years ago, about it lie<br>Flowers from I know not what embroidery --<br>Heart's purple -- and all these I set<br>For emblems of the day against the tower<br>Emblematical of the night,<br>And claim as by a soldier's right<br>A charter to commit the crime once more.<br>i{My Soul.} Such fullness in that quarter overflows<br>And falls into the basin of the mind<br>That man is stricken deaf and dumb and blind,<br>For intellect no longer knows<br>i{Is} from the i{Ought,} or i{knower} from the i{Known -- }<br>That is to say, ascends to Heaven;<br>Only the dead can be forgiven;<br>But when I think of that my tongue's a stone.<br>i{My Self.} A living man is blind and drinks his drop.<br>What matter if the ditches are impure?<br>What matter if I live it all once more?<br>Endure that toil of growing up;<br>The ignominy of boyhood; the distress<br>Of boyhood changing into man;<br>The unfinished man and his pain<br>Brought face to face with his own clumsiness;<br>The finished man among his enemies? --<br>How in the name of Heaven can he escape<br>That defiling and disfigured shape<br>The mirror of malicious eyes<br>Casts upon his eyes until at last<br>He thinks that shape must be his shape?<br>And what's the good of an escape<br>If honour find him in the wintry blast?<br>I am content to live it all again<br>And yet again, if it be life to pitch<br>Into the frog-spawn of a blind man's ditch,<br>A blind man battering blind men;<br>Or into that most fecund ditch of all,<br>The folly that man does<br>Or must suffer, if he woos<br>A proud woman not kindred of his soul.<br>I am content to follow to its source<br>Every event in action or in thought;<br>Measure the lot; forgive myself the lot!<br>When such as I cast out remorse<br>So great a sweetness flows into the breast<br>We must laugh and we must sing,<br>We are blest by everything,<br>Everything we look upon is blest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Butler+Yeats">William Butler Yeats</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536985" data-title="A Dialogue Of Self And Soul de William Butler Yeats" data-description="i{My Soul} I summon to the winding ancient stair;
Set all your mind upon the steep ascent,
Upon the broken, crumbling battlement,
Upon the breathless starlit air,
'Upon the star that marks the hidden pole;
Fix every wandering thought upon
That qua..."></div>
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