21/09/2005


William Butler Yeats was born in Dublin 1865 although his parents were in Irish descent. He spent most of his early years growing up in London. When he was twenty , Yeats published his first poems in Dublin University Review. For most of his life Yeats moved back and forth living in England and Ireland. Each change of environment had a notable effect on his writing.
In 1899 Yeats was involved with helping found the Irish National Theatre. He would return, in 1926, when the Irish Rebellion and its members were trying to gain independence from the controlling British forces. When Ireland was obtained partial independence in 1922, Yats was appointed a Senator and served in government for six years.
Yeats's career as a writer was long and successful. He won the Nobel Prize for literature in 1923. He died in 1939, at age of 74.
in www.cwru.edu/...ballentine/resources Posted by Picasa

...de quando em vez, volto a este poema que um dia copiei, e, que trazia sempre comigo. Não sei do papel onde o escrevi, mas, por vezes, ainda penso"I hunger to build them anew"
All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old,
The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart,
The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould,
Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in deeps of my heart.

The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told;
I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart,
With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made, like a casket of gold
For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.
W.B.Yeats



5 comentários:

Anónimo disse...

Eu sabia, Gabriela, que não resistirias por muito tempo sem falar e publicar Yeats.
Quantas manhãs, tardes e noites passámos lendo e relendo estes versos, amiga!
Saudades de outros tempos e lugares.
Mas sempre presentes.

Anónimo disse...

Assim diz-me a escrita:
presságio de que resta um alvíssimo coro.
Yeats o amigo nas palavras amigas de uma outra amiga.
Invoco o trocadilho.

Anónimo disse...

é verdade Filipe.
Tempos idos. tempos presentes os de agora que nos trazem a saudade.
mas há que olhar para além. além também Yeats tem o seu lugar e tu e eu e os outros.

Anónimo disse...

Gosto de te ver. como sempre optimista, amiga Lela.

Anónimo disse...

sempre