Friday, May 14, 2004

Good Although Disturbing Poetry

The Second Coming
By ..... You guessed it.. Yeats!

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is lost;
The best lack all convictions, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

N.B. - Spiritus Mundi means spirit of the world, sort of like total human imagination ... etc... I think this is supposed to be about the rise of fascism. Yar, that's what I've read. Good ole Maggles reading literary analyses....

Let's pull Billy Yeats out of his grave and see what he has to say...

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