William Butler Yeats

(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939 / County Dublin / Ireland)

The Magi

Poem by William Butler Yeats

NOW as at all times I can see in the mind's eye,
In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones
Appear and disappear in the blue depth of the sky
With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,
And all their helms of Silver hovering side by side,
And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more,
Being by Calvary's turbulence unsatisfied,
The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.

Comments about The Magi by William Butler Yeats

  • Kim BarneyKim Barney (12/26/2015 10:51:00 AM)

    An enigmatic poem. Its meaning escapes the cerebrum and drifts away on the wind.(Report)Reply

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  • Ratnakar Mandlik (12/26/2015 2:35:00 AM)

    An excellent poem with deep meaning unfolded with the wonders of life. Thanks for sharing.(Report)Reply

    1 person liked.
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  • Edward Kofi LouisEdward Kofi Louis (12/26/2015 2:17:00 AM)

    Nature! With the mystery of life. Nice work.(Report)Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
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Read poems about / on: silver, rain, sky, hope

Poem Submitted: Thursday, May 17, 2001

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