Yeats Reading Group

[downing]

Great poem, Il Penseroso. Thank you so much for posting it! Welcome in the thread!

A Coat


I MADE my song a coat
Covered with embroideries
Out of old mythologies
From heel to throat;
But the fools caught it,
Wore it in the world's eyes
As though they'd wrought it.
Song, let them take it,
For there's more enterprise
In walking naked.

I like a lot this tiny poem. I believe it is a poetic art, but I am not sure what does it refer to. I ask those from this thread who know more about Y's biography: did he ever suffered a ''transfer'' from romanticism to modernism? I know this poem is a modern like one, quite different to those which we read till now.

I love the way Yeats repeats the image of a gyre in his later poems. I think it was also in "Sailing to Byzantium".

What does ''gyre'' mean? I looked in all kind of dictionaries, but found nothing. Could you please help me? I am not an English native so I will ask you to forgive my unknowledge at times.

[PrinceMyshkin]

[QUOTE=downing;417203]Please, do! That must be great and I can hardly wait to read it![QUOTE]

THREE FOR W.B. YEATS

One

He was not the wild singer
we took him for, but a man
age and longing
drove half-mad.

The sweet black letters
of his trade
came cranky
sometimes to the page

until he learned,
with a boy's young rage,
that an old man's grief
is to be made a sage.

Two

--Someone who shifted syllables
around a page, practising
the rhymester's trade.
A simple game for a man to play.

While the world around him
traded more difficult things:
murder for love and truth
for deceit.

The world could be changed
(and remain the same)
but not by syllables
upon a page.

The worst men, in its stolid way,
the world to raging madness tames.
The best men
play the simplest games.

Three

Although he had the purest diction
he was just a man, mortal,
his voice
produced in the voice-box of the mind

or heart, trying to find
words to speak against the dark
of Ireland's trouble and the bleat
and roar of trouble in the blood,

rehearsing the common flood
that God might call on him
to speak about, or some
familiar stranger, met by the side

of the road, who would ask
of him, and of you:
What of the night? What of
the night?

J. Newman Sudden Proclamations © 1992

You made me blush,Prince. I have myself recently discovered Yeats and perhaps your grandson appreciates more other poets...who knows

As for blushing, I think it is an admirable quality and I would love to write a poem about it. Your remark about my grandson is thoughtful and he IS something of a poet himself! Indeed, when he was maybe 4 he turned to his wonderful 2 year old sister Lucy and spontaneously declaimed:

I love you more than a fish;
I love you more than a cornstalk;
I love you more than a willow
floating on a mud pool

By the way, considering one of your signature quotations, have you any idea where my pseudonym comes from?

And would you care to tell us here - or me via a PM - more about yourself, where you live, what else you love - or hate?

Jer

[Niamh]

Great poem, Il Penseroso. Thank you so much for posting it! Welcome in the thread!

A Coat


I MADE my song a coat
Covered with embroideries
Out of old mythologies
From heel to throat;
But the fools caught it,
Wore it in the world's eyes
As though they'd wrought it.
Song, let them take it,
For there's more enterprise
In walking naked.

I like a lot this tiny poem. I believe it is a poetic art, but I am not sure what does it refer to. I ask those from this thread who know more about Y's biography: did he ever suffered a ''transfer'' from romanticism to modernism? I know this poem is a modern like one, quite different to those which we read till now.



What does ''gyre'' mean? I looked in all kind of dictionaries, but found nothing. Could you please help me? I am not an English native so I will ask you to forgive my unknowledge at times.

A gyre is something circular or coiled like a spiral. It can also be refared to the likes of worlpools and vortexs. Its the motion of 'turning' in the beginning of "the Second Coming". It is believed that the use of "gyre" in many of poems is symbolic of the spiritual frame of mind he was in at this stage of his life; a like with the psyche and the spirit worlds, the gyre being the vortex of the mind.

[downing]

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.


Your poem is wonderful, Prince Myshkin! You're a great poet and I think your grandson takes after you. That tiny poem of his is very very cute. I guess he is precocious.
Sincerely, I didn't know who Prince Myshkin was, but I knew vaguely of a connection between this name and Dostoevsky's. I searched the internet and found out that it is D's main character from ''The Idiot''. Unfortunately, I haven't read the book yet. I found the quote I have at my signature in LitNet and liked it so much that I put it as a signature.
You can find a lot of things about me by reading my profile page. If you have any other questions, contact me via PM.
Thank you so much Niamh for telling me what ''gyre'' means. That helped a lot!

[downing]

O Do Not Love Too Long


Sweetheart, do not love too long:
I loved long and long,
And grew to be out of fashion
Like an old song.
All through the years of our youth
Neither could have known
Their own thought from the other's,
We were so much at one.
But O, in a minute she changed —
O do not love too long,
Or you will grow out of fashion
Like an old song.

I love this poem!

[dramasnot6]

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

I love the simple yet powerful imagery that litters this poem, "midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow". So soulful.
I think this poem does a lovely job of expressing the everyday life as something to be treasured, the simple moments and occurences like crickets singing or water lapping presented as the "hearts core", or really fuel for our purpose in living.

[Niamh]

I love the simple yet powerful imagery that litters this poem, "midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow". So soulful.
I think this poem does a lovely job of expressing the everyday life as something to be treasured, the simple moments and occurences like crickets singing or water lapping presented as the "hearts core", or really fuel for our purpose in living.

yes. it show a beauty that can be seen i we take the time on our own to see it. Beauty can be seen in Isolation.

[downing]

Down by the salley gardens

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;
She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white
feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the
tree;
But I, being young and foolish, with her would not
agree.
In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white
hand.
She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

[downing]

http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15529

WB Yeats reciting himself ''The Lake Isle of Inisfree''!

[Niamh]

Down by the salley gardens

Down by the salley gardens my love and I did meet;
She passed the salley gardens with little snow-white
feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the
tree;
But I, being young and foolish, with her would not
agree.
In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white
hand.
She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs;
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

i love this poem. We even have it as a song here now. It is amazing that a man can write such beautiful poetry for a woman whom never loved him in return.

HE WISHES FOR THE CLOTHS OF HEAVEN

HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

this poems shows a great example of how much he loved her and wanted to threet her like a queen. She was very undeserving if i may say so myself!

[Mrs. Dalloway]

http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15529

WB Yeats reciting himself ''The Lake Isle of Inisfree''!

woow! I want to be in this group too

The way he recited the poem is a bit strange! Is it to make fear?

[Mrs. Dalloway]

THE OLD MEN ADMIRING THEMSELVES IN THE WATER


I HEARD the old, old men say,
“Everything alters,
And one by one we drop away.”
They had hands like claws, and their knees
Were twisted like the old thorn-trees
By the waters.
I heard the old, old men say,
“All that’s beautiful drifts away
Like the waters.”

I love this poem! What do you think it means? maybe that the beauty and youth never come back... everything takes its curse: nature, time, and also humans. That's why the old men look like trees.

[Quark]

I love this poem! What do you think it means? maybe that the beauty and youth never come back... everything takes its curse: nature, time, and also humans. That's why the old men look like trees.

I think Yeats is comparing the effect of age on the trees to its effect on human beings: both are deformed by long life. The waters that flow past the trees are compared with experiences which come and go, but cannot be retained.

I'm curious whether Yeats means the deformities of the old men in the poem to be just physical. They also could be psychological. The small failures and tragedies in their lives could make them just as twisted and knotty mentally as physically.

[Mrs. Dalloway]

I think Yeats is comparing the effect of age on the trees to its effect on human beings: both are deformed by long life. The waters that flow past the trees are compared with experiences which come and go, but cannot be retained.

I'm curious whether Yeats means the deformities of the old men in the poem to be just physical. They also could be psychological. The small failures and tragedies in their lives could make them just as twisted and knotty mentally as physically.

Yes, they also could be psychological but when you look at trees or the old men you only can see the physical effects of the time. You can't discover what the old men are feeling, thinking or what experiences they had. The same happens with trees. So the only you can see the physical effects of the life.

[downing]

Good question, Mrs. Dalloway!
I think both of you are right: Quark is very right when he/she(?) talks about the exterior deformities which are also found within.

Yes, they also could be psychological but when you look at trees or the old men you only can see the physical effects of the time. You can't discover what the old men are feeling, thinking or what experiences they had. The same happens with trees. So the only you can see the physical effects of the life.

Inded, Mrs. Dalloway is right when she is saying this, but I'd point out that poetry revolves around the interior even more than around the exterior, so I believe Quark also said a good thing.

I think we should look more attentively at the statement ''thorn-trees''. Observe the word ''thorn''. I think this is a key word because it referrs to the old mens' deformities of which we were talking about. The experiences and difficulties through which they passed created some ''thorns'' withing them and so they became alike ''thorn-trees''. Interesting idea.

I agree with you, Mrs. Dalloway, Yeats had a very orginal way of reciting the poem in that link I posted. I didn't expect to hear something like that. It was rewarding, though.