Yeats Reborn

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The Rose of the World

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The Rose of the World

13.11.2015 comments

The Rose of the World

 

Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream?

For these red lips, with all their mournful pride,

Mournful that no new wonder may betide,

Troy passed away in one high funeral gleam,

And Usna's children died.

 

We and the labouring world are passing by:

Amid men's souls, that waver and give place

Like the pale waters in their wintry race,

Under the passing stars, foam of the sky,

Lives on this lonely face.

 

Bow down, archangels, in your dim abode:

Before you were, or any hearts to beat,

Weary and kind one lingered by His seat;

He made the world to be a grassy road

Before her wandering feet.

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Available translations

  • La rosa del mundo ()
  • A világ rózsája (hu)
  • A világ rózsája (hu)
  • РОЗА ЗЕМНАЯ (ru)
  • La rosa del mondo (it)

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  • Poetry (8)
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Yeats Reborn

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