| Title | : | W.B. Yeats (Everyman's Poetry) |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 0460879022 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780460879026 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Paperback |
| Number of Pages | : | 102 |
| Publication | : | First published January 1, 1895 |
W.B. Yeats (Everyman's Poetry) Reviews
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I’m in Sligo Ireland right and having picked up this lovely edition of Yeats poetry at Charlie Byrne’s in Galway read the whole thing last night. It has a pretty good introduction from William Tindall the Columbia professor.
Yeats - you know reading his poems as a poet one is immediately aware of an unfathomable and inexplicable gulf in quality. Yeats doesn’t pick the cleverest words, most of the poems rhyme, and yet they have this incredible thing to them. His poem about the island of Innisfree I’ve tried to write a poem like that but the best I’ve done is just miles away. How does he do it?
Most of his poems “come out of air” so to speak, they don’t seem particularly based on a place or experience. Some have a mystical element or reference. Their greatness is sort of elusive, it’s there but hard to pinpoint.
“Sailing to Byzantium” was the impetus for the name of a literary magazine I started in college. Also his poems are the text for one of my favorite classical music pieces, “The Curlew.” The Leda and Second Coming poems are classics but they really aren’t like the rest of his work.
I was going to visit his grave and read “Under Ben Bulben” there, but it’s further than I thought. There’s a Yeats Museum across the street here maybe they have a tour.
Yeats is of course recommended for all. -
4 stars - English ebook
I studied some of Yeats poems while at school and decided to revisit his works 35 years later. This book is a collection of most of his best ones and gives a good flavour of the poet’s oeuvre. Yeats was very much a romantic poet and many of the poems are lyrical odes to beautiful women. Yeats was also an Irish nationalist and there are quite a few political poems in which he sides with the Irish rebels of the early 20th Century. There are a lot of poems which are based on or allude to Irish (and Greek) mythology. I liked quite a few of the poems but didn’t like his longer rambling ones,while others were overly verbose and flowery. I preferred the poems in the first half of this book to the second. My favourite poem was The Second Coming.Other ones worth a mention are When You Are Old, The Lake Isle of Innisfree,Easter 1916 and An Irish Airman Foresees His Death. -
I enjoyed some poems better than others. I listened to this in an audio format, read by T. P. McKenna. It was my first time to listen to poetry in the audiobook format, and I found it more difficult to follow than poems in print. I think a longer pause between poems would help transition from one to the other a bit better. I tend to listen to audiobooks while driving, and distractions caused by traffic which don't cause one to lose much when listening to a novel create a bigger challenge in audio format. The narrator's voice reminded me of that of a stodgy old English professor.
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Not sure how to even begin this review. Yeats showed incredible deftness in complete directness or obfuscation, and fluctuated on every point between them. I felt almost no laziness in his work, finding him much more similar to Bogan than Roethke, which surprised me; Yeats had an attention to detail and a syntactic variety that I did not expect. Often leading me back a few lines to complete the meaning of a sentence that has an overgrown strand of prepositional phrases or other descriptive clauses, the writing maintained the total accuracy to his ideas that a tedious group of end-stopped sentences cannot. It's the same exacting tone that characterizes Bogan's work for me.
I started to keep track of the ones I liked most, but ended with a list much longer than I thought for only about 90 pages. Unlike Roethke, I feel that I could open to any page within the book and find a masterful poem with a clear invitation for interpretation. Though I could reference a few for the usual subjects of poetry (desire, hope, death, love), and each phenomenal, I liked Yeats' work that discussed his frustration with composing poetry. He brags almost in one of the earlier poems ("To Ireland in the Coming Times" that his poetry is superior to that of other Irish poets at the time, and I have no trouble believing it now. He also reflects on what leads poets to writing ("The Spur"), and the poet's mind tending toward symbols ("The Circus Animals' Desertion"). They reminded me of a poem I wrote earlier in the year:
Demiurge
No more slack-jawed verse
Of tenor emptier than size;
Befit, restrain, intend the curse—
Cut what the heart belies.
Be it dust or clay,
Arise or harden it; Resolve
In what service— At what angle
Earth shall you revolve.
Will its orbit hymn praise?
What instinct will it brew therein?
Watch, as design from intent strays:
Waning bliss stokes sin
To raise itself in perceived awe;
Both to mold and brim
Sinner's grief for law
Wrought from its predestined whim.
Anyway, I'm considering a complete reread because of how taken aback I am. Also, at a time I was losing interest in poetry somewhat, Yeats has revived my interest and passion for it and I'll be working on composing more in the coming weeks. Definitely would recommend. -
“Poemas” do irlandês W. B. Yeats, Prémio Nobel da Literatura em 1923, é um conjunto de poemas traduzidos por José Agostinho Baptista de excelente qualidade.
“Quando Fores Velha”
Quando fores velha, grisalha, vencida pelo sono,
Dormitando junto à lareira, toma este livro,
Lê-o devagar, e sonha com o doce olhar
Que outrora tiveram teus olhos, e com as suas sombras profundas;
Muitos amaram os momentos de teu alegre encanto,
Muitos amaram essa beleza com falso ou sincero amor,
Mas apenas um homem amou tua alma peregrina,
E amou as mágoas do teu rosto que mudava;
Inclinada sobre o ferro incandescente,
Murmura, com alguma tristeza, como o amor te abandonou
E em largos passos galgou as montanhas
Escondendo o rosto numa imensidão de estrelas. -
Maybe it’s me or my expectations but I was a bit disappointed. Some of the poems one immediately recognises as absolute masterpieces.
An Irish Airman Foresees His Death, for instance, is short but extremely powerful, both in terms of imagery and sonorities.
The poem made such an impression on me in my twenties that I memorised it and can still recite it to this day, now over 25 years ago.
Upon reading the entire volume night after night over the last couple of weeks, however, I came across only few of these instant crushes and found the average Yates poem to be somewhat too conceptual and intellectualist for my taste. -
Such beauty!
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I struggle with poetry, it’s not that I don’t enjoy the imagery, but I think my expectations are too high, I am not one easily swept away by slant rhyme. That being said Yeats had some lines which caught me, for reasons I cannot supply.
Here are some I wrote down and find satisfaction upon regrading again and again.
Seek then
No learning from the starry men,
Who follow with the optic glass
The whirling ways of stars that pass
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams
That I who had sat,
Dumbfounded before a knave,
Should give my friend
A pretense of wit
But I, whose virtues are the definitions
Of the analytic mind, can neither close
The eye of the mind nor keep my tongue from speech
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
We’re vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle
And what dough beast, it’s hour come round at last,
Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born
But louder sang the ghost, ‘what then?’ -
This book took me nearly half a year, and it was worth it. Yeat’s poetry is achingly beautiful and often surprisingly humorous. I found the later poems in this collection particularly enjoyable.
“What beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this...
Why what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?” -
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
While some of the poems are a little too sing-songy for my liking - that is, I'm not the biggest fan of his super rhyme- and syllable-driven work - many are absolutely stunning. Poems about love and dreams, mysticism and myths--right up my alley.
I would love to do a full review but do not currently have the time. For now, I'll just list some of my favourites:
- The Song of the Happy Shepherd
- The Man who Dreamed of Faeryland
- The Lamentation of the Old Pensioner
- To Ireland in the Coming Times
- The Host of the Air
- Into the Twilight
- He wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
- The Travail of Passion
- In the Seven Woods
- The Old Age of Queen Maeve
- Baile and Ailinn
- Words
- King and No King
- These are the Clouds
- The Two Kings
- Fallen Majesty
- Friends
- The Cold Heaven
- That the Night Come
- Solomon to Sheba
- The Hawk
- Ego Dominus Tuss
- Solomon and the Witch
- The Leaders of the Crowd
- The Second Coming
- A Prayer for my Daughter
A thought on the world today:
My mind, because the minds that I have loved,
The sort of beauty that I have approved,
Prosper but little, has dried up of late,
Yet knows that to be choked with hate
May well be of all evil chances chief. -
I don't have nearly enough background to deal with or adjudicate this collection. Things started to pick up for me with The Wild Swans at Coole and never looked backed. I didn't "get" many of the poems that dealt with Irish mythology, and I just didn't have the time to google each name associated with the various Irish rebellions. Someday. Lyrically, each poem was beautiful, sometimes quirky, and always oozing (sorry, but it's the best word) with subtext and emotion. In the uncollected poems toward the end, I was often disturbed by the thoughts coming from Yeats' pen. But then, so was he.
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When you are old
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. -
Simply a wonderful introduction to the work of one of my absolute favourite poets. My copy will likely fall apart with rereading in years to come.
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i mit hoved sammenligner jeg altid william butler yeats og john keats 1) fordi the smiths og "keats and yeats are on your side while wilde is on mine" fra cemetery gates og 2) fordi deres efternavne rimer, hvis man ignorerer at yeats er irsk og udtales yates. jeg var ikke stor fan af keats, så der var ikke meget at konkurrere med, men det skal ikke formindske hvordan yeats overvejer og gennemarbejder sine tematikker. til tider lidt 18-19th century incel/nice-guy-energy, der senere manifesteres i hans mussolini-sympati (u read that right 🥴), men honestly kunne bare grine af det, for er så stor fan af udsmykket, mytologisk, frodig, prærafaelitisk symbolik der får min sjæl til at synge og giver mig lyst til at romantisere mit eget liv på en studio ghibli-esque måde der for mit vedkommende ikke omfatter manual labor 😌.
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Meh.
To be fair, I'm not immersed in the poetry scene, so I could be missing some of the appeal.
Also fair: more than one poem read race fetish-y.
Yeats is spectacular with imagery - I know I have more than a few highlighted passages. There were also a number of poems I reread four or five times before carrying on with the rest of the book. That wonderment diminished when poverty and race were mentioned. Apparently, poor people are funny and exoticizing anyone who isn't Yeats Himself™️ is his side hobby? Meanwhile, women were either disparaged, idolized, or a funky fresh two-in-one combo. Eugh....
Anyways, read it if you want - some of these poems are definitely worth the effort, but be prepared for everything else. Maybe just look up some of his greatest hits instead of this whole album, you feel?
I'm going to take a shower and focus on modern poetry for a while. -
8/10
“Think where mans glory begins and ends, and say my glory was I had such friends.”
“Though leaves are many, the root is one.”
“I only ask which way my journey lies, for he who made you bitter made you wise.”
“My contemplation turns on time, which has transfigured me.”
“The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong to great to be told, I hunger to build them anew.”
“But I, being poor, have only my dreams.
I have spread my dreams under your feet
tread softly, for you tread on my dreams.”
“Who could have foretold that the heart grows old.”
“To long a sacrifice can make a stone of the heart. Oh, when will it suffice?”
“That is no country for old men.”
I've been meaning to read more poetry this year. This reminded me of why. This is good. -
My rating is based on my taste in poetry.
This book gives a selection of Yeats's poetry throughout his career under a selection of themes. My preference has to be the poems based on nature and mysticism. After reading many of his poems which were of current affairs within his lifetime I wished I had a better knowledge of Irish history. There is a sense of humor in some of his early work but as he got older the themes dwell on old age, his talent, memories of the past and questioning the relevance of participation of his friends in the revolution.
After reading this book I have a better sense of the Celtic Revival and the mindset of this great Irish poet. -
May 2021: 3 Stars
Super hit or miss for me. I used post-its to highlight the poems that struck a chord with me, and I've counted eleven such post-its. I think I would have enjoyed Yeats's poems more thoroughly if I'd been analyzing them with a group. Alone, I found myself just getting annoyed with all his non-rhymes (like rhyming "move" with "love", etc.). The uneven cadences also were more distracting than anything for me- anytime I was pulled out of the scene Yeats had set, it was because the rhythm was suddenly off for some reason.
Anyway, I did find some nice gems in this book, and I'm glad to be more well-acquainted with his poetry now! -
"Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great,
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?"
- No Second Troy -
Poesie è una raccolta delle opere del poeta irlandese William Butler Yeats, vincitore del premio Nobel per la letteratura del 1923.
Lo stile poetico è mozzafiato, pulito, rinfrescante e magico. I frequenti riferimenti a personaggi del mondo antico (Achille, Elena, Pitagora...) mi ricordano piacevolmente le poesie degli autori rinascimentali, che mescolarono la loro sintassi forbita con elementi di cultura pagana. A chi piace la poesia, questa è davvero una perla da recuperare <3 -
Before us lies eternity; our souls / Are love, and a continual farewell.
I have spread my dreams under your feet; / Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
For everything that’s lovely is / But a brief, dreamy, kind delight.
“Were not all her life but storm, / Would not painters paint a form / Of such noble lines,” I said, / “Such a delicate high head, / All that sternness amid charm, / All that sweetness amid strength”
These are the clouds about the fallen sun, / The majesty that shuts his burning eye: / The weak lay hand to what the strong has done, / Till that be tumbled that was lifted high.
She lived in storm and strife / Her soul had such desire / For what proud death may bring / That it could not endure / The common good of life. -
3.5 stars rounded up. I'm not a fan of poetry, most likely because poems tend to be concise and I prefer description. That said, I listened to this book while also following along to the written word and enjoyed the poems.
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I enjoy Yeats poetry in the sense that it has good rhythm and flow but I also find it just slightly pedantic because I'm not always entirely sure what he's actually talking about but nevertheless fairly enjoyable.
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This is a brilliant collection of Yeats's poems, well edited with a valuable introduction to the poet and his work and a fine set of notes. This is the definitive edition of the collected poems.
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Loved it. My favourite is: The cap and bells
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Outstanding
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Of course, will return, frequently.
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Favorite poems:
1.) Into the Twilight
2.) When You are Old
3.) The Lamentation of the Old Pensioner
