Tag Archives: William Butler Yeats

‘The White Birds’, by William Butler Yeats

Written by, William Butler Yeats, Ireland’s greatest poet, ‘The White Birds’, is an expression of concurrent intertwined feelings when loving someone so much colludes with the crushing despair of unrequited love, when your beloved does not love you back: A sense of loss over something you will never have, being one of the worst feelings ever.

William Butler Yeats wishes that he and his beloved, Irish nationalist Maud Gonne MacBride, with whom he was infatuated, could take flight from their circumstances and be together. This wish is portrayed in the representation of the two of them changed into white birds floating on the sea-foam. He urges his beloved not to muse over mundane and forlorn images of this world – the fading meteor, the rose and lily, depicting the politics of Irish nationalist resistance – and restates his longing to be apart from the world with her, as two white birds together

Tir na nOg in Irish folklore is an imaginary land where persons live as long as fairies by the “Danaan Shore”

I would that we were, my beloved, white birds on the foam of the sea!

We tire of the flame of the meteor, before it can fade and flee;

And the flame of the blue star of twilight, hung low on the rim of the sky,

Has awaked in our hearts, my beloved, a sadness that may not die.

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“…on the foam of the sea…”  (Painting by Kathyrn O’Reilly 2006)

A weariness comes from those dreamers, dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;

Ah, dream not of them, my beloved, the flame of the meteor that goes,

Or the flame of the blue star that lingers hung low in the fall of the dew:

For I would we were changed to white birds on the wandering foam: I and you!

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“… haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore…”

I am haunted by numberless islands, and many a Danaan shore,

Where Time would surely forget us, and Sorrow come near us no more;

Soon far from the rose and the lily and fret of the flames would we be,

Were we only white birds, my beloved, buoyed out on the foam of the sea!

William Butler Yeats (1892).

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Our Great Little Nation (sic): Ten things you can do in Ireland that almost certainly won’t land you in jail

In response to Tuesday’s (30th July) Irish Times article by Fintan O’Toole in which he notes:

A country that can’t protect its citizens from the effects of wrongdoing is not a Republic

Source: http://www.irishtimes.com/news/crime-and-law/ten-things-you-can-do-in-ireland-that-almost-certainly-won-t-land-you-in-jail-1.1478549?page=1

Doubtless a political elite that has sapped the moral fibre of our nation and is so divorced from the reality of life under the economic hardship that has befallen so many of our citizens will angrily deny the following:

“Our “Great Little Nation” is increasingly being run in an authoritarian, secretive and anti-democratic style which has nothing to do with the sense of pride and moral virtue that propelled the vision of our founding fathers to build an independent Irish state established on sound democratic principles…

… The reality is what it is.. There are a lot of smart people in this country who feel completely alienated by the Establishment because they dare to think ‘out of the box’.. People like the writer of this Irish Times article. We read, we rant, we argue, and our elite chuckle away. The Establishment has never felt threatened and they don’t feel threatened now. Because the system they have created is so watertight there is little possibility of systemic change to the way our country operates.”

Ireland's political elite

“The stone’s in the midst of all “

‘Easter 1916’, by William Butler Yeats

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Filed under Ireland, Niall in the News, Niallism, Politics

‘He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven’ by William Butler Yeats

He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven by William Butler Yeats

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.”

                                                   William Butler Yeats

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Filed under Beauty, Dreamland, Love, Nature, Niallism, Poetry

Protected: A True Irish Patriot: My father’s father, Dr. Michael William “M.W.” O’Reilly

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Filed under 1889, 1916, Business, Economy, Family History, IRA, Ireland, Irish, Irish National Insurance, New Ireland Assurance Company, O'Reilly, POW, Solus Teoranta

“The Lake Isle Of Innisfree’, by William Butler Yeats

The ‘Lake isle of Innisfree‘ was written by Ireland‘s greatest poet, William Butler Yeats, in a quiet moment of nostalgia for his native land. He was a man of extraordinary ability and was awarded the Nobel prize for literature in 1923.

The ‘Lake isle of Innisfree‘, which was much loved by my late father and is also my favourite poem, reveals a place of enchantment comparable to the dramatic images of Ireland‘s natural beauty as seen through my eyes.

"...and a small cabin build there  of clay and wattles made... "

“…and a small cabin build there
of clay and wattles made… “

 

“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 live alone in the bee-loud glade.."

“..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.

 

"..and evening full of the linnet's wings.."

“..and evening full of the linnet’s wings..”

I will arise and go now, for always night and day,

I hear lake waters lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,

I hear it in the deep heart’s core. 

"..I hear lake waters lapping with low sounds by the shore.."

“..I hear lake waters lapping with low sounds by the shore..”

William Butler Yeats (Circa.1890).

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Filed under Beauty, Birds, Dreamland, Inspirational, Ireland, Nature, Poetry