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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536994" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Man Young And Old</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I<br>First Love</div><div style="margin:10px 0">THOUGH nurtured like the sailing moon<br>In beauty's murderous brood,<br>She walked awhile and blushed awhile<br>And on my pathway stood<br>Until I thought her body bore<br>A heart of flesh and blood.<br>But since I laid a hand thereon<br>And found a heart of stone<br>I have attempted many things<br>And not a thing is done,<br>For every hand is lunatic<br>That travels on the moon.<br>She smiled and that transfigured me<br>And left me but a lout,<br>Maundering here, and maundering there,<br>Emptier of thought<br>Than the heavenly circuit of its stars<br>When the moon sails out.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">II<br>Human Dignity<br>Like the moon her kindness is,<br>If kindness I may call<br>What has no comprehension in't,<br>But is the same for all<br>As though my sorrow were a scene<br>Upon a painted wall.<br>So like a bit of stone I lie<br>Under a broken tree.<br>I could recover if I shrieked<br>My heart's agony<br>To passing bird, but I am dumb<br>From human dignity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">III<br>The Mermaid <br>A mermaid found a swimming lad,<br>Picked him for her own,<br>Pressed her body to his body,<br>Laughed; and plunging down<br>Forgot in cruel happiness<br>That even lovers drown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IV<br>The Death of the Hare<br>I have pointed out the yelling pack,<br>The hare leap to the wood,<br>And when I pass a compliment<br>Rejoice as lover should<br>At the drooping of an eye,<br>At the mantling of the blood.<br>Then' suddenly my heart is wrung<br>By her distracted air<br>And I remember wildness lost<br>And after, swept from there,<br>Am set down standing in the wood<br>At the death of the hare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">V<br>The Empty Cup<br>A crazy man that found a cup,<br>When all but dead of thirst,<br>Hardly dared to wet his mouth<br>Imagining, moon-accursed,<br>That another mouthful<br>And his beating heart would burst.<br>October last I found it too<br>But found it dry as bone,<br>And for that reason am I crazed<br>And my sleep is gone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VI<br>His Memories<br>We should be hidden from their eyes,<br>Being but holy shows<br>And bodies broken like a thorn<br>Whereon the bleak north blows,<br>To think of buried Hector<br>And that none living knows.<br>The women take so little stock<br>In what I do or say<br>They'd sooner leave their cosseting<br>To hear a jackass bray;<br>My arms are like the twisted thorn<br>And yet there beauty lay;<br>The first of all the tribe lay there<br>And did such pleasure take --<br>She who had brought great Hector down<br>And put all Troy to wreck --<br>That she cried into this ear,<br>'Strike me if I shriek.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VII<br>The Friends of his Youth<br>Laughter not time destroyed my voice<br>And put that crack in it,<br>And when the moon's pot-bellied<br>I get a laughing fit,<br>For that old Madge comes down the lane,<br>A stone upon her breast,<br>And a cloak wrapped about the stone,<br>And she can get no rest<br>With singing hush and hush-a-bye;<br>She that has been wild<br>And barren as a breaking wave<br>Thinks that the stone's a child.<br>And Peter that had great affairs<br>And was a pushing man<br>Shrieks, 'I am King of the Peacocks,'<br>And perches on a stone;<br>And then I laugh till tears run down<br>And the heart thumps at my side,<br>Remembering that her shriek was love<br>And that he shrieks from pride.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">VIII<br>Summer and Spring<br>We sat under an old thorn-tree<br>And talked away the night,<br>Told all that had been said or done<br>Since first we saw the light,<br>And when we talked of growing up<br>Knew that we'd halved a soul<br>And fell the one in t'other's arms<br>That we might make it whole;<br>Then peter had a murdering look,<br>For it seemed that he and she<br>Had spoken of their childish days<br>Under that very tree.<br>O what a bursting out there was,<br>And what a blossoming,<br>When we had all the summer-time<br>And she had all the spring!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">IX<br>The Secrets of the Old<br>I have old women's sectets now<br>That had those of the young;<br>Madge tells me what I dared not think<br>When my blood was strong,<br>And what had drowned a lover once<br>Sounds like an old song.<br>Though Margery is stricken dumb<br>If thrown in Madge's way,<br>We three make up a solitude;<br>For none alive to-day<br>Can know the stories that we know<br>Or say the things we say:<br>How such a man pleased women most<br>Of all that are gone,<br>How such a pair loved many years<br>And such a pair but one,<br>Stories of the bed of straw<br>Or the bed of down.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">X<br>His Wildness<br>O bid me mount and sail up there<br>Amid the cloudy wrack,<br>For peg and Meg and Paris' love<br>That had so straight a back,<br>Are gone away, and some that stay<br>Have changed their silk for sack.<br>Were I but there and none to hear<br>I'd have a peacock cry,<br>For that is natural to a man<br>That lives in memory,<br>Being all alone I'd nurse a stone<br>And sing it lullaby.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">XI<br>From 'Oedipus at Colonus'<br>Endure what life God gives and ask no longer span;<br>Cease to remember the delights of youth, travel-wearied aged man;<br>Delight becomes death-longing if all longing else be vain.<br>Even from that delight memory treasures so,<br>Death, despair, division of families, all entanglements of mankind grow,<br>As that old wandering beggar and these God-hated children know.<br>In the long echoing street the laughing dancers throng,<br>The bride is catried to the bridegroom's chamber<br>through torchlight and tumultuous song;<br>I celebrate the silent kiss that ends short life or long.<br>Never to have lived is best, ancient writers say;<br>Never to have drawn the breath of life, never to have<br>looked into the eye of day;<br>The second best's a gay goodnight and quickly turn away.</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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First Love

THOUGH nurtured like the sailing moon
In beauty's murderous brood,
She walked awhile and blushed awhile
And on my pathway stood
Until I thought her body bore
A heart of flesh and blood.
But since I laid a hand thereon
And found a hea..."></div>
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