THIS great purple butterfly,    
In the prison of my hands,    
Has a learning in his eye    
Not a poor fool understands.    
 
Once he lived a schoolmaster        
With a stark, denying look,    
A string of scholars went in fear    
Of his great birch and his great book.    
 
Like the clangour of a bell,    
Sweet and harsh, harsh and sweet,  
That is how he learnt so well    
To take the roses for his meat.

  • 0
  • 0
  •  
  •  
Login per commentare...
Email

Altre opere di W. B. Yeats...

Alcuni poeti che seguono W. B. Yeats...

Nancy Niddam Sequerra kamila more cabisada Jessica Rose Aldair Acevedo Benedetta Merlo R. L. McCallum