Notes from a small island A weblog by Jonathan Ali |
Wednesday, February 23, 2005 I seek an image, not a book. Those men that in their writings are most wise Own nothing but their blind, stupefied hearts. I call to the mysterious one who yet Shall walk the wet sands by the edge of the stream And look most like me, being indeed my double, And prove of all imaginable things The most unlike, being my anti-self, And standing by these characters disclose All that I seek; and whisper it as though He were afraid the birds, who cry aloud Their momentary cries before it is dawn, Would carry it away to blasphemous men. -- From "Ego Dominus Tuus", W.B. Yeats posted by Jonathan | 9:33 AM 0 comments 0 Comments: |
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