The Shadowy Waters Poem by William Butler Yeats

The Shadowy Waters

Rating: 4.1


I walked among the seven woods of Coole:
Shan-walla, where a willow-hordered pond
Gathers the wild duck from the winter dawn;
Shady Kyle-dortha; sunnier Kyle-na-no,
Where many hundred squirrels are as happy
As though they had been hidden hy green houghs
Where old age cannot find them; Paire-na-lee,
Where hazel and ash and privet hlind the paths:
Dim Pairc-na-carraig, where the wild bees fling
Their sudden fragrances on the green air;
Dim Pairc-na-tarav, where enchanted eyes
Have seen immortal, mild, proud shadows walk;
Dim Inchy wood, that hides badger and fox
And marten-cat, and borders that old wood
Wise Buddy Early called the wicked wood:
Seven odours, seven murmurs, seven woods.
I had not eyes like those enchanted eyes,
Yet dreamed that beings happier than men
Moved round me in the shadows, and at night
My dreams were clown hy voices and by fires;
And the images I have woven in this story
Of Forgael and Dectora and the empty waters
Moved round me in the voices and the fires,
And more I may not write of, for they that cleave
The waters of sleep can make a chattering tongue
Heavy like stone, their wisdom being half silence.
How shall I name you, immortal, mild, proud shadows?
I only know that all we know comes from you,
And that you come from Eden on flying feet.
Is Eden far away, or do you hide
From human thought, as hares and mice and coneys
That run before the reaping-hook and lie
In the last ridge of the barley? Do our woods

And winds and ponds cover more quiet woods,
More shining winds, more star-glimmering ponds?
Is Eden out of time and out of space?
And do you gather about us when pale light
Shining on water and fallen among leaves,
And winds blowing from flowers, and whirr of feathers
And the green quiet, have uplifted the heart?
I have made this poem for you, that men may read it
Before they read of Forgael and Dectora,
As men in the old times, before the harps began,
Poured out wine for the high invisible ones.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Edward Kofi Louis 20 April 2016

Where the wild bees fling! Thanks for sharing.

2 0 Reply
Ray Burleigh 20 April 2016

This is one of those poems which, if you love him, you love his music and his love of wandering over the hills, saying the poem to himself. It is a wonderful picture in the midst of the darkness of Ireland that this man could find such beauty, such peace in the silence of the glens.

0 0 Reply
Amar Agarwala 20 April 2016

A poem of great imagery and depth.

1 0 Reply
Lupee Awe 20 April 2016

Nature favours you

1 0 Reply
Akachukwu Lekwauwa 20 April 2016

on reading this poem the second time, I admired the beautiful scenery of this shadowy waters

1 0 Reply
* Sunprincess * 20 April 2016

......I like the imagery of nature ?

1 0 Reply
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William Butler Yeats

William Butler Yeats

County Dublin / Ireland
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