<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537096" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Her Vision In The Wood</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dry timber under that rich foliage,<br>At wine-dark midnight in the sacred wood,<br>Too old for a man's love I stood in rage<br>Imagining men. Imagining that I could<br>A greater with a lesser pang assuage<br>Or but to find if withered vein ran blood,<br>I tore my body that its wine might cover<br>Whatever could rccall the lip of lover.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And after that I held my fingers up,<br>Stared at the wine-dark nail, or dark that ran<br>Down every withered finger from the top;<br>But the dark changed to red, and torches shone,<br>And deafening music shook the leaves; a troop<br>Shouldered a litter with a wounded man,<br>Or smote upon the string and to the sound<br>Sang of the beast that gave the fatal wound.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">All stately women moving to a song<br>With loosened hair or foreheads grief-distraught,<br>It seemed a Quattrocento painter's throng,<br>A thoughtless image of Mantegna's thought --<br>Why should they think that are for ever young?<br>Till suddenly in grief's contagion caught,<br>I stared upon his blood-bedabbled breast<br>And sang my malediction with the rest.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That thing all blood and mire, that beast-torn wreck,<br>Half turned and fixed a glazing eye on mine,<br>And, though love's bitter-sweet had all come back,<br>Those bodies from a picture or a coin<br>Nor saw my body fall nor heard it shriek,<br>Nor knew, drunken with singing as with wine,<br>That they had brought no fabulous symbol there<br>But my heart's victim and its torturer.</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> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=537096" data-title="Her Vision In The Wood de William Butler Yeats" data-description="Dry timber under that rich foliage, At wine-dark midnight in the sacred wood, Too old for a man's love I stood in rage Imagining men. Imagining that I could A greater with a lesser pang assuage Or but to find if withered vein ran blood, I tore my ..."></div> </div> </div>

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