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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537052" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Coole Park And Ballylee, 1931</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Under my window-ledge the waters race,<br>Otters below and moor-hens on the top,<br>Run for a mile undimmed in Heaven's face<br>Then darkening through 'dark' Raftery's 'cellar' drop,<br>Run underground, rise in a rocky place<br>In Coole demesne, and there to finish up<br>Spread to a lake and drop into a hole.<br>What's water but the generated soul?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Upon the border of that lake's a wood<br>Now all dry sticks under a wintry sun,<br>And in a copse of beeches there I stood,<br>For Nature's pulled her tragic buskin on<br>And all the rant's a mirror of my mood:<br>At sudden thunder of the mounting swan<br>I turned about and looked where branches break<br>The glittering reaches of the flooded lake.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Another emblem there! That stormy white<br>But seems a concentration of the sky;<br>And, like the soul, it sails into the sight<br>And in the morning's gone, no man knows why;<br>And is so lovely that it sets to right<br>What knowledge or its lack had set awry,<br>So atrogantly pure, a child might think<br>It can be murdered with a spot of ink.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sound of a stick upon the floor, a sound<br>From somebody that toils from chair to chair;<br>Beloved books that famous hands have bound,<br>Old marble heads, old pictures everywhere;<br>Great rooms where travelled men and children found<br>Content or joy; a last inheritor<br>Where none has reigned that lacked a name and fame<br>Or out of folly into folly came.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A spot whereon the founders lived and died<br>Seemed once more dear than life; ancestral trees,<br>Or gardens rich in memory glorified<br>Marriages, alliances and families,<br>And every bride's ambition satisfied.<br>Where fashion or mere fantasy decrees<br>We shift about - all that great glory spent -<br>Like some poor Arab tribesman and his tent.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We were the last romantics - chose for theme<br>Traditional sanctity and loveliness;<br>Whatever's written in what poets name<br>The book of the people; whatever most can bless<br>The mind of man or elevate a rhyme;<br>But all is changed, that high horse riderless,<br>Though mounted in that saddle Homer rode<br>Where the swan drifts upon a darkening flood.</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=537052" data-title="Coole Park And Ballylee, 1931 de William Butler Yeats" data-description="Under my window-ledge the waters race,
Otters below and moor-hens on the top,
Run for a mile undimmed in Heaven's face
Then darkening through 'dark' Raftery's 'cellar' drop,
Run underground, rise in a rocky place
In Coole demesne, and there to fin..."></div>
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