Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Sailing to Byzantium

Lines for the Tuesday gone.
And the Wednesday which started.


"That is no country for old men. The young
In one another's arms, birds in the trees
- Those dying generations - at their song,
The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,...

....A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing...

..And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium."



My favourite lines from the W.B.Yeats poem. Other lines I choose to ignore.

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