Insignificance
Fallen Majesty
Although crowds gathered once if she but showed her face,
And even old men's eyes grew dim, this hand alone,
Like some last courtier at a gypsy camping place
Babbling of fallen majesty, records what's gone.
The lineaments, a heart that laughter has made sweet,
These, these remain but I record what's gone. A crowd
Will gather, and not know it walks the very street
Whereon a thing once walked that seemed a burning cloud.
W.B. Yeats
This reminds me of the insignificance of us as physical beings. However much we are acclaimed and noticed, however much others crowd around to catch a glimpse, in reality our bodies will all turn to dust very soon. So if we have not given any thought to what's inside, to our soul, then what will live on?
Although crowds gathered once if she but showed her face,
And even old men's eyes grew dim, this hand alone,
Like some last courtier at a gypsy camping place
Babbling of fallen majesty, records what's gone.
The lineaments, a heart that laughter has made sweet,
These, these remain but I record what's gone. A crowd
Will gather, and not know it walks the very street
Whereon a thing once walked that seemed a burning cloud.
W.B. Yeats
This reminds me of the insignificance of us as physical beings. However much we are acclaimed and noticed, however much others crowd around to catch a glimpse, in reality our bodies will all turn to dust very soon. So if we have not given any thought to what's inside, to our soul, then what will live on?
Labels: W.B. Yeats
posted by Lady Fotherington-Smethers at 5:42 AM
1 Comments:
Dirt in the Ground
What does it matter, a dream of love or a dream of lies
We're all gonna be in the same place when we die
Your spirit don't leave knowing your face or your name
And the wind through your bones is all that remains
And we're all gonna be, yeah, yeah
I said we're all gonna be, yeah yeah
I said we're all gonna be just dirt in the ground
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