Anniversaries

A poem by Aldous Huxley (1894 – 1963)

Once more the windless days are here,

Quiet of autumn, when the year

Halts and looks backward and draws breath

Before it plunges into death.

Silver of mist and gossamers,

Through-shine of noonday’s glassy gold,

Pale blue of skies, where nothing stirs

Save one blanched leaf, weary and old,

That over and over slowly falls

From the mute elm-trees, hanging on air

Like tattered flags along the walls

Of chapels deep in sunlit prayer.

Once more … Within its flawless glass

To-day reflects that other day,

When, under the bracken, on the grass,

We who were lovers happily lay

And hardly spoke, or framed a thought

That was not one with the calm hills

And crystal sky. Ourselves were nought,

Our gusty passions, our burning wills

Dissolved in boundlessness, and we

Were almost bodiless, almost free.

The wind has shattered silver and gold.

Night after night of sparkling cold,

Orion lifts his tangled feet

From where the tossing branches beat

In a fine surf against the sky.

So the trance ended, and we grew

Restless, we knew not how or why;

And there were sudden gusts that blew

Our dreaming banners into storm;

We wore the uncertain crumbling form

Of a brown swirl of windy leaves,

A phantom shape that stirs and heaves

Shuddering from earth, to fall again

With a dry whisper of withered rain.

Last, from the dead and shrunken days

We conjured spring, lighting the blaze

Of burnished tulips in the dark;

And from black frost we struck a spark

Of blue delight and fragrance new,

A little world of flowers and dew.

Winter for us was over and done:

The drought of fluttering leaves had grown

Emerald shining in the sun,

As light as glass, as firm as stone.

Real once more: for we had passed

Through passion into thought again;

Shaped our desires and made that fast

Which was before a cloudy pain;

Moulded the dimness, fixed, defined

In a fair statue, strong and free,

Twin bodies flaming into mind,

Poised on the brink of ecstasy.

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Poems in English 

• At The Abbey Theatre by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• At Galway Races by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• At Algeciras; A Meditaton Upon Death by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• Are You Content? by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• Another Song Of A Fool by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• An Irish Airman Forsees His Death by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• An Image From A Past Life by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• An Appointment by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• An Acre Of Grass by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• All Things Can Tempt Me by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• Against Unworthy Praise by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• After Long Silence by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• Adam’s Curse by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• A Woman Homer Sung by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• A Thought From Propertius by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• A Stick Of Incense by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• A Statesman’s Holiday by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• A Song From ‘The Player Queen’ by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• A Song by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats
• A Prayer On Going Into My House by William Butler Yeats by William Butler Yeats

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Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

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