That is no country for old men. The young
In one another’s arms, birds in the trees
—Those dying generations—at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.
O sages standing in God’s holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make
Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.
WE TURKEY NOW
>>7619888
Was there ever a more man-crushable writer than Yeats?
>>7620219
Keats desu
>Keats will never tell you what to do when he dies
>>7619888
>trip 8's
>8 close to infinity which in shape is not unlike the gyres that Yeats believed time worked in
I know it's you you Irish bastard
>>7619888
Jesus, dude, get a comb.
>>7620243
The poetry came out of his head so fast he couldn't write it all down, so the excess would travel up his hair causing it to stand up. Learn yo history
>>7620219
Crane
>>7620219
Robinson Jeffers
we could spend our days building towers out of rock and our nights snuggling and reading poetry together
gets me hard and all choked up to know it can never be
>tfw Yeat's home was recently flooded because of the shitty weather.
>>7620219
Yeats was literally a cuckold though. good poet nonetheless
>>7620288
>mfw hurt hawks
>>7620288
>mfw from Carmel
Legitimately, though, Jeffers is one of the few poets I find myself able to memorize--I think he is just too able to express his humanity
>>7620288
>>7620433
>>7620446
Joy is a trick in the air; pleasure is merely
contemptible, the dangled
Carrot the ass follows to market or precipice;
But limitary pain -- the rock under the tower
and the hewn coping
That takes thunder at the head of the turret-
Terrible and real. Therefore a mindless dervish
carving himself
With knives will seem to have conquered the world.
The world's God is treacherous and full of
unreason; a torturer, but also
The only foundation and the only fountain.
Who fights him eats his own flesh and perishes
of hunger; who hides in the grave
To escape him is dead; who enters the Indian
Recession to escape him is dead; who falls in
love with the God is washed clean
Of death desired and of death dreaded.
He has joy, but Joy is a trick in the air; and
pleasure, but pleasure is contemptible;
And peace; and is based on solider than pain.
He has broken boundaries a little and that will
estrange him; he is monstrous, but not
To the measure of the God.... But I having told
you--
However I suppose that few in the world have
energy to hear effectively-
Have paid my birth-dues; am quits with the
people.
