?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

W.B. Yeats: Transhumanist

SAILING TO BYZANTIUM
W.B. Yeats

I
That is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees--
Those dying generations -- at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,
Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born, and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unageing intellect.


II
An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium.


III
O sages standing in God's holy fire
As in the gold mosaic of a wall,
Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre,
And be the singing-masters of my soul.
Consume my heart away; sick with desire
And fastened to a dying animal
It knows not what it is; and gather me
Into the artifice of eternity.




IV.
Once out of nature I shall never take
My bodily form from any natural thing,
But such a form as Grecian goldsmiths make

Of hammered gold and gold enamelling
To keep a drowsy Emperor awake;
Or set upon a golden bough to sing
To lords and ladies of Byzantium
Of what is past, or passing, or to come.


Readers of scifi will likely recognize that, rather than reporting my own insight, I have merely passed along an association realized by Robert Silverburg. He used it as basis for his novella, Sailing to Byzantium.

Comments

( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
i_s_d
Dec. 13th, 2004 04:46 pm (UTC)
i'm relinquishing monitor status of _war_on_drugs_ community to you.
kmo
Dec. 14th, 2004 09:25 am (UTC)
Ok
What does that entail?
i_s_d
Dec. 14th, 2004 09:48 am (UTC)
Re: Ok
whatever you wish. it's your now.
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )

Latest Month

August 2017
S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Tags

Page Summary

Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Ideacodes