The finest of all the senses is the feeling to reach out… to pronounce the hurt lurking deep down or to share that ‘jocund ‘ memory so that your ‘thing of beauty‘ could transgress the time and space and become ‘joy forever‘
Yeats has stayed with me in good times and bad. These lines I am quoting down here, caught my notice while we did Yeats with Kaleem-ur-Rehman at University of Karachi. For this long a time , just revisiting these so simply worded strings of professed love, fills me with inspiration to treat this life of mine as a celebrity. I don’t see a particular reason in it , but then ‘Poetry heals the wounds inflicted by reason‘. What do you think?
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths
William Butler Yeats
Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
Because Death Couldn’t Stop for Me
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then ’tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses’ heads
Were toward eternity.