Twee gedichten van Nobel-gelauwerde William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)
THE ROSE TREE
'O WORDS are lightly spoken,' Said Pearse to Conolly, 'Maybe a breath of politic words Has withered our Rose Tree; Or maybe but a wind that blows Across the bitter sea.'
'It needs to be but watered,' James Conolly replied, 'To make the green come out again And spread on every side, And shake the blossom from the bad To be the garden's pride.'
'But where can we draw water,' Said Pearse to Conolly, 'When all the wells are parched away? O plain as plain can be There's nothing but our own red blood Can make a right Rose Tree.'
Uit: Michael Robartes and the Dancer (1921)
THE FOOL BY THE ROADSIDE
WHEN all works that have From cradle run to grave From grave to cradle run instead; When thoughts that a fool Has wound upon a spool Are but loose thread, are but loose thread;
When cradle and spool are past And I mere shade at last Coagulate of stuff Transparent like the wind, I think that I may find A faithful love, a faithful love.
WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS (1865-1939) [Nobelprijs Literatuur 1923] Uit: The Tower (1928)