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y2karl (2)

"I have foresworn desire...I neither lick nor moan...I neither swallow..." Kim Addonizio's poem, "The End of It," is on Poetry Daily. Reminiscent of Yeats' line, "The best lack all conviction, while the worst/ Are full of passionate intensity" and Stephen Dunn's line, "Precision...is more radical than passion," it demonstrates the fecund nature of poetic iconoclasm. Or, if you prefer the more hackneyed characterization, the value of questioning everything. In the end, Addonizio may be sitting quietly, like Nanao Sakaki's "happy, lucky idiot." [NSF asexuals, hedonists, or the majority of non-eccentrics...but I doubt your boss at work will bat an eyelash at a poem--if so, sit quietly you happy, lucky...] [more inside]
posted by ottimo on Aug 9, 2011 - 41 comments

Other Yeats Links from The W.B. Yeats Society of New York. Which leads to collections of poems by and scholarly analysis of the poems of William Butler Yeats. And what have you--links to Yeats in translation in Italian, Spanish and Esperanto as well as a movie of He Wishes For the Cloths of Heaven, among other things. I was thinking of the thread here, where the Geocities site of the Collected Poems of William Butler Yeats is long gone. And these above were among what I found when I went looking for a replacement. But Poemhunter does have 427 poems of Yeats arranged in alphabetical order, so there is that. [more inside]
posted by y2karl on Feb 11, 2010 - 4 comments

Should you find yourself wandering around the city of Leiden, the Netherlands sometime, you may notice some curious markings on the city's walls.

These Muurgedichten ("Wall Poems") adorn many of the town's streets (clickable map), and many English-language poets are represented: one John Keats, for instance, inside a bookshop; Dylan Thomas, E. E. Cummings, W.B. Yeats, some guy called William Shakespeare, or this ode to Charlie Parker by American William Waring Cuney. [more inside]
posted by goodnewsfortheinsane on Apr 5, 2009 - 15 comments

The Life and Works of William Butler Yeats - Online Exhibition. [Via]
posted by homunculus on May 19, 2008 - 10 comments

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

The Collected Poems Of William Butler Yeats
posted by y2karl on Nov 3, 2002 - 87 comments