http://vbox7.com/play:6b9a86f9










William Butler Yeats The Wild Swans At Coole

The trees are in their autumn beauty,
The woodland paths are dry,
Under the October twilight the water
Mirrors a still sky;
Upon the brimming water among the stones
Are nine-and-fifty Swans.
The nineteenth autumn has come upon me
Since I first made my count;
I saw, before I had well finished,
All suddenly mount
And scatter wheeling in great broken rings
Upon their clamorous wings.
I have looked upon those brilliant creatures,
And now my heart is sore.
All"s changed since I, hearing at twilight,
The first time on this shore,
The bell-beat of their wings above my head,
Trod with a lighter tread.
Unwearied still, lover by lover,
They paddle in the cold
Companionable streams or climb the air;
Their hearts have not grown old;
Passion or conquest, wander where they will,
Attend upon them still.
But now they drift on the still water,
Mysterious, beautiful;
Among what rushes will they build,
By what lake"s edge or pool
Delight men"s eyes when I awake some day
To find they have flown away?

















---------------
Although I saw it all in the mind’s eye

There can be nothing solider till I die.
--------------

W. B. Yeats,  “The Double Vision of Michael Robartes”

красности!

Пре-красно е да не дължиш никому нищо, да не искаш от никого нищо, да не си посегнал пръв, за да разрушиш нещо красиво; само тогава можеш да се наслаждаваш спокойно на залеза.
Прилича малко на представата за щастие на Лилиан /Хелман/ от "Може би" - пре-прочети тоя "пасаж", струва си. :)
С две думи:

БИСТРИца - ЖЕЛЕЗНИца

:))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))