<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=537310" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Withering Of The Boughs</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I CRIED when the moon was mutmuring to the birds:<br>'Let peewit call and curlew cry where they will,<br>I long for your merry and tender and pitiful words,<br>For the roads are unending, and there is no place to my mind.'<br>The honey-pale moon lay low on the sleepy hill,<br>And I fell asleep upon lonely Echtge of streams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No boughs have withered because of the wintry wind;<br>The boughs have withered because I have told them my dreams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I know of the leafy paths that the witches take<br>Who come with their crowns of pearl and their spindles of wool,<br>And their secret smile, out of the depths of the lake;<br>I know where a dim moon drifts, where the Danaan kind<br>Wind and unwind their dances when the light grows cool<br>On the island lawns, their feet where the pale foam gleams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No boughs have withered because of the wintry wind;<br>The boughs have withered because I have told them my dreams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I know of the sleepy country, where swans fly round<br>Coupled with golden chains, and sing as they fly.<br>A king and a queen are wandering there, and the sound<br>Has made them so happy and hopeless, so deaf and so blind<br>With wisdom, they wander till all the years have gone by;<br>I know, and the curlew and peewit on Echtge of streams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No boughs have withered because of the wintry wind;<br>The boughs have withered because I have told them my dreams.</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=537310" data-title="The Withering Of The Boughs de William Butler Yeats" data-description="I CRIED when the moon was mutmuring to the birds: 'Let peewit call and curlew cry where they will, I long for your merry and tender and pitiful words, For the roads are unending, and there is no place to my mind.' The honey-pale moon lay low on th..."></div> </div> </div>

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