#yeats — Public Fediverse posts

RT by @eurireland: Visit the Local Studies Centre, Westward Town Centre, Bridge Street, to view Yeats: The Life and Work of W.B. Yeats. On display until 5 August. Presented by the National Library of Ireland in partnership with Europe Direct at Sligo Central Library. #Yeats #Sligo @culture_ireland
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https://nitter.net/ed_sligo/status/2079585866230452671#m

RT by @eurireland: Visit the Local Studies Centre, Westward Town Centre, Bridge Street, to view Yeats: The Life and Work of W.B. Yeats. On display until 5 August. Presented by the National Library of Ireland in partnership with Europe Direct at Sligo Central Library. #Yeats #Sligo @culture_ireland
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https://nitter.net/ed_sligo/status/2079585866230452671#m

Sebbene le foglie siano molte, la radice è unica;
Per tutti i giorni bugiardi della mia giovinezza
Ho fatto oscillare nel sole le mie foglie e i miei fiori … https://cctm.website/william-butler-yeats-irlanda/

William Butler Yeats

#yeats #poesia #alberi #cctmwebsite #anoipiaceleggere #leggere

Two Words, Three Sources, Four Generations: How I Built The Wergild

https://bolesblogs.com/2026/07/07/two-words-three-sources-four-generations-how-i-built-the-wergild/

Two Words, Three Sources, Four Generations: How I Built The Wergild

https://bolesblogs.com/2026/07/07/two-words-three-sources-four-generations-how-i-built-the-wergild/

SOME EXCELLENT READINGS If you like Yeats, these may be worth your time. #poetry #yeats #reading #errtling #bookcafe #art-of-review #pleasant-things #art #writing #poem youtu.be/STjSTzaFEOQ

W.B Yeats' best poems

SOME EXCELLENT READINGS If you like Yeats, these may be worth your time. #poetry #yeats #reading #errtling #bookcafe #art-of-review #pleasant-things #art #writing #poem youtu.be/STjSTzaFEOQ

W.B Yeats' best poems

As it's W.B. Yeats' birthday today:

TO HIS HEART, BIIDING IT HAVE NO FEAR

Be you still, be you still, trembling heart;
Remember the wisdom out of the old days:
Him who trembles before the flame and the flood,
And the winds that blow through the starry ways,
Let the starry winds and the flame and the flood
Cover over and hide, for he has no part
With the lonely, majestical multitude.

#yeats #poetry

As it's W.B. Yeats' birthday today:

TO HIS HEART, BIIDING IT HAVE NO FEAR

Be you still, be you still, trembling heart;
Remember the wisdom out of the old days:
Him who trembles before the flame and the flood,
And the winds that blow through the starry ways,
Let the starry winds and the flame and the flood
Cover over and hide, for he has no part
With the lonely, majestical multitude.

#yeats #poetry

In this clip from The Tonearm Podcast, Stephen Emmer explains how years in production music left him unable to compose without a brief, and how the decision to become "his own prompter" by improvising along to a cassette of Richard Burton reciting Yeats led to his foundational album 'Recitement'.

Listen to the full conversation: https://podcast.thetonearm.com/stephen-emmer-composing-at-the-edge-of-silence-assemytrical-dot/

#SpokenWord #Yeats #Creativity #Podcast

In this clip from The Tonearm Podcast, Stephen Emmer explains how years in production music left him unable to compose without a brief, and how the decision to become "his own prompter" by improvising along to a cassette of Richard Burton reciting Yeats led to his foundational album 'Recitement'.

Listen to the full conversation: https://podcast.thetonearm.com/stephen-emmer-composing-at-the-edge-of-silence-assemytrical-dot/

#SpokenWord #Yeats #Creativity #Podcast

really outstanding discussion between Richard Murphy & Steve Keen

& at the end i liked the analogy of people committed to a bad ideology is like people committed to their religion, whether it is sensible or a destructive force for humanity. & #Yeats 😁

https://youtu.be/KQYbNk2BmsI?si=xgFSl8ZmV3ja1i_-

#economics #econsky

really outstanding discussion between Richard Murphy & Steve Keen

& at the end i liked the analogy of people committed to a bad ideology is like people committed to their religion, whether it is sensible or a destructive force for humanity. & #Yeats 😁

https://youtu.be/KQYbNk2BmsI?si=xgFSl8ZmV3ja1i_-

#economics #econsky

‘The Lake Isle of Innisfree’ by William Butler Yeats

#poem #poetry #english #literature #yeats

https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/william-butler-yeats-poem-the-lake-isle-of-innisfree

‘The Lake Isle of Innisfree’ by William Butler Yeats

#poem #poetry #english #literature #yeats

https://www.deadpoetsdaily.com/p/william-butler-yeats-poem-the-lake-isle-of-innisfree

We make poetry out of a mouthful of air

In his wonderful How To Read a Poem and Fall in Love With Poetry, Edward Hirsch reflects on the orality which marks the poetic form. For most of history it was been an oral art and it retains that orality even now. Inspired by the boast of W.B. Yeats that “I made it out of a mouthful of air” Hirsch reflects that:

As every poet does. So, too, does the reader make, or remake, the poem out of a mouthful of air, out of breath. When I recite a poem I inhabit it, I bring the words off the page into my own mouth, my own body. I become its speaker and lt its verbal music move through me as if the poem is a score and I am its instrumentalist, its performer. I let its heartbeat pulse through me as embodied experience, as experience embedded in the sensuality of sounds.

At the weekend I found myself thinking about the word ‘phoneme’ and its parallel to tokens upon which large language models rely. We too compose meaningful units out of components so atomic that their constituent character falls beneath the surface of our awareness. I was making the point to a friend using the word ‘phoneme’ and was suddenly struck that ‘phoneme’ itself is composed of phonemes: pho-ne-meme. It was startling to experience the concept itself involuntarily decomposed into atomic units.

Except these aren’t phonemes. These are syllables. Phonemes are even more basic units of sound out of which syllables are composed. The fact what presented itself to me as the most basic unit was not, when I thought about it, actually the most basic unit was itself striking. This led me to discover the International Phonetic Alphabet in which phonemes can be rendered using the phonemic alphabet. In which case ‘phoneme’ is composed as /f əʊ n iː m/. This is how GPT 5.2 breaks that down phonetically:

f as in fan
əʊ the diphthong like the vowel in go
n as in no
iː the long vowel like in see
m as in man

It’s a struggle to remain at this atomic level. It’s too basic and too strange. Though it does suddenly make me regret not doing the linguistics degree I fleetingly considered as a teenager. You can stay at this level but it takes a bit of training to do it. The syllabic register is more accessible but even then it takes work. You have to manually decompose as an analytical exercise rather than seeing or feeling the composition. This highlights to me how we’re embedded in the semantic register such that we have to abstract from what words convey in order to analyse them as sign systems.

There are mysteries in the phonetic register. This exercise is akin to repeating a word until the meaning is lost. It just becomes a sound. Then a series of sounds. Until its unsettling to realise that only a minute ago, before you repeated the word fifty times, it conveyed a meaning with an immediacy which now feels inaccessible. There are mysteries in the semantic register as well though. If we instrumentalise our use of words, or rush through speaking and writing, we lose the experience of the force which animates them. There are words which energise us and words which drain us. Words which move us and which leave us cold. There’s a meeting in our experience of words between something deeply human and something…. Other.

Poetry I think is the purest form of connection to that mystery. If we rush through reading a poem it remains flat and inert. The meaning only emerges through us if we take the time to linger with what we are reading. There’s an obvious role of the unconscious here, at least in my experience of as someone who gets gripped by certain lines which I then find myself circling round and preoccupied by. Why am I gripped by these lines? What is it they are evoking in me? Why are they evoking this? I find it hard to appreciate a poem as a whole because I need that foothold to gradually learn to inhabit the poem or rather to find a way to let it inhabit me. The analytical register is too ready-to-hand for me, a tool that presents itself when I have a question but if I do that with a poem (at least too soon) the fragile life of what I’m ready withers and dies in front of me.

There’s something there which we’re encountering with poetry. How it feels and looks changes as we change. But it is in a real sense, I increasingly think, an encounter:

And the ragged rock in the restless waters,
Waves wash over it, fogs conceal it;
On a halcyon day it is merely a monument,
In navigable weather it is always a seamark
To lay a course by: but in the sombre season
Or the sudden fury, is what it always was.

T.S. Eliot, The Dry Salvages

As Yeats put it we make poems out of mouthfuls of air. What I’m circling round is I think how mysterious and remarkable this is. How we have the capacity not just to produce meaningful sounds with motor movements of our mouth, tongue and throat that coordinate human action but that carry transformative meaning that transcends the very system of signs we have constructed. That reaches beyond and past it. The theme of the Other I’m just as much circling round relates to what is beyond. What is that deeper reality beyond the sign system. This makes me think that I’m unsatisfied with the obvious Lacanian reading that I’m talking about the machinic quality of the linguistic system. The alien mechanisms through which it churns away in a quasi-autonomous way. I’m talking about what’s in us that exists beyond that system yet remains utterly dependent on it for intersubjective expression.

Perhaps this is just the unconscious: the mycelium which chains together more sensory intensities then we could possibly process and out of which a mushroom of conscious meaning occasionally pops up. I don’t know, I’ve confused myself and I’m going to stop rambling now. But this feels like fertile terrain.

(I’ve also got a book to finish imminently and I’m struck that this sudden mystical fixation on inarticulacy could be the world’s most abstract procrastination exercise 🤔)

#EdwardHirsch #eliot #inarticulacy #language #linguistics #poetry #sound #Yeats

We make poetry out of a mouthful of air

In his wonderful How To Read a Poem and Fall in Love With Poetry, Edward Hirsch reflects on the orality which marks the poetic form. For most of history it was been an oral art and it retains that orality even now. Inspired by the boast of W.B. Yeats that “I made it out of a mouthful of air” Hirsch reflects that:

As every poet does. So, too, does the reader make, or remake, the poem out of a mouthful of air, out of breath. When I recite a poem I inhabit it, I bring the words off the page into my own mouth, my own body. I become its speaker and lt its verbal music move through me as if the poem is a score and I am its instrumentalist, its performer. I let its heartbeat pulse through me as embodied experience, as experience embedded in the sensuality of sounds.

At the weekend I found myself thinking about the word ‘phoneme’ and its parallel to tokens upon which large language models rely. We too compose meaningful units out of components so atomic that their constituent character falls beneath the surface of our awareness. I was making the point to a friend using the word ‘phoneme’ and was suddenly struck that ‘phoneme’ itself is composed of phonemes: pho-ne-meme. It was startling to experience the concept itself involuntarily decomposed into atomic units.

Except these aren’t phonemes. These are syllables. Phonemes are even more basic units of sound out of which syllables are composed. The fact what presented itself to me as the most basic unit was not, when I thought about it, actually the most basic unit was itself striking. This led me to discover the International Phonetic Alphabet in which phonemes can be rendered using the phonemic alphabet. In which case ‘phoneme’ is composed as /f əʊ n iː m/. This is how GPT 5.2 breaks that down phonetically:

f as in fan
əʊ the diphthong like the vowel in go
n as in no
iː the long vowel like in see
m as in man

It’s a struggle to remain at this atomic level. It’s too basic and too strange. Though it does suddenly make me regret not doing the linguistics degree I fleetingly considered as a teenager. You can stay at this level but it takes a bit of training to do it. The syllabic register is more accessible but even then it takes work. You have to manually decompose as an analytical exercise rather than seeing or feeling the composition. This highlights to me how we’re embedded in the semantic register such that we have to abstract from what words convey in order to analyse them as sign systems.

There are mysteries in the phonetic register. This exercise is akin to repeating a word until the meaning is lost. It just becomes a sound. Then a series of sounds. Until its unsettling to realise that only a minute ago, before you repeated the word fifty times, it conveyed a meaning with an immediacy which now feels inaccessible. There are mysteries in the semantic register as well though. If we instrumentalise our use of words, or rush through speaking and writing, we lose the experience of the force which animates them. There are words which energise us and words which drain us. Words which move us and which leave us cold. There’s a meeting in our experience of words between something deeply human and something…. Other.

Poetry I think is the purest form of connection to that mystery. If we rush through reading a poem it remains flat and inert. The meaning only emerges through us if we take the time to linger with what we are reading. There’s an obvious role of the unconscious here, at least in my experience of as someone who gets gripped by certain lines which I then find myself circling round and preoccupied by. Why am I gripped by these lines? What is it they are evoking in me? Why are they evoking this? I find it hard to appreciate a poem as a whole because I need that foothold to gradually learn to inhabit the poem or rather to find a way to let it inhabit me. The analytical register is too ready-to-hand for me, a tool that presents itself when I have a question but if I do that with a poem (at least too soon) the fragile life of what I’m ready withers and dies in front of me.

There’s something there which we’re encountering with poetry. How it feels and looks changes as we change. But it is in a real sense, I increasingly think, an encounter:

And the ragged rock in the restless waters,
Waves wash over it, fogs conceal it;
On a halcyon day it is merely a monument,
In navigable weather it is always a seamark
To lay a course by: but in the sombre season
Or the sudden fury, is what it always was.

T.S. Eliot, The Dry Salvages

As Yeats put it we make poems out of mouthfuls of air. What I’m circling round is I think how mysterious and remarkable this is. How we have the capacity not just to produce meaningful sounds with motor movements of our mouth, tongue and throat that coordinate human action but that carry transformative meaning that transcends the very system of signs we have constructed. That reaches beyond and past it. The theme of the Other I’m just as much circling round relates to what is beyond. What is that deeper reality beyond the sign system. This makes me think that I’m unsatisfied with the obvious Lacanian reading that I’m talking about the machinic quality of the linguistic system. The alien mechanisms through which it churns away in a quasi-autonomous way. I’m talking about what’s in us that exists beyond that system yet remains utterly dependent on it for intersubjective expression.

Perhaps this is just the unconscious: the mycelium which chains together more sensory intensities then we could possibly process and out of which a mushroom of conscious meaning occasionally pops up. I don’t know, I’ve confused myself and I’m going to stop rambling now. But this feels like fertile terrain.

(I’ve also got a book to finish imminently and I’m struck that this sudden mystical fixation on inarticulacy could be the world’s most abstract procrastination exercise 🤔)

#EdwardHirsch #eliot #inarticulacy #language #linguistics #poetry #sound #Yeats

“ #Yeats was a strange #modernist: an #anti-modern man nevertheless too intellectual, honest, and rigorous to deny the necessity of coming to some terms with #modernity” daily.jstor.org/yeats-and-th...

Yeats and the Occult Imaginati...

“ #Yeats was a strange #modernist: an #anti-modern man nevertheless too intellectual, honest, and rigorous to deny the necessity of coming to some terms with #modernity” daily.jstor.org/yeats-and-th...

Yeats and the Occult Imaginati...

#yeats #christmas

#yeats #christmas

"The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper."
-W.B. Yeats
#photography #nature #naturephotography #quotes #literature #Yeats #perception

"The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper."
-W.B. Yeats
#photography #nature #naturephotography #quotes #literature #Yeats #perception

William Butler #Yeats
Eseje

Ktoś jest fanem?
Zastanawiam się, co są w stanie wnieść przemyślenia człowieka, który je zapisał jakieś 120 lat temu?

Tylko dzisiaj, 9,90 zł -- https://ebookpoint.pl/ksiazki/eseje-william-butler-yeats,e_1h8k.htm

Owszem jest to domena publiczna... ale w oryginale, niestety tłumaczenia mają swoje prawa autorskie.

Recent acquisition for our personal library:

📖 Yeats (Writers and Critics) by Peter Ure

#bookstodon #yeats

Recent acquisition for our personal library:

📖 Yeats (Writers and Critics) by Peter Ure

#bookstodon #yeats

They returned to Scotland where Gabriela won the admiration of her husband’s society friends – Wilde, Yeats, Engels, & others – with her “slight accent, neither French nor Spanish, but most attractive and charming, as foreign accents sometimes can be, especially with ladies.”

11/18

#Scottish #literature #19thcentury #20thcentury #Victorian #Edwardian #OscarWilde #Yeats #WBYeats #Engels #FredrichEngels

They returned to Scotland where Gabriela won the admiration of her husband’s society friends – Wilde, Yeats, Engels, & others – with her “slight accent, neither French nor Spanish, but most attractive and charming, as foreign accents sometimes can be, especially with ladies.”

11/18

#Scottish #literature #19thcentury #20thcentury #Victorian #Edwardian #OscarWilde #Yeats #WBYeats #Engels #FredrichEngels

https://www.alojapan.com/1268669/irelands-rising-profile-in-japan-through-our-culture-exports/ Ireland’s rising profile in Japan through our culture, exports #culture #expo #Hearn #Ireland #Irish #Japan #JapanNews #Japanese #JapaneseNews #Lafcadio #news #nyc #Osaka #parade #St.Patrick #Tokyo #Yeats Ireland’s economic investment in Japan is growing at an unprecedented rate, which explains why this year, Ireland is taking center stage at the Osaka Expo 2025 with a stunning new Irish pavilion that will introduce many of the estimate…

Some of the lyrics in the main theme song include text from the Celtic folklore poem “The Stolen Child” by Northern Irish poet William Butler Yeats
#MusComEnt #HappyStPatricksDay #SongOfTheSea #WilliamButlerYeats #poetry #Yeats

Some of the lyrics in the main theme song include text from the Celtic folklore poem “The Stolen Child” by Northern Irish poet William Butler Yeats
#MusComEnt #HappyStPatricksDay #SongOfTheSea #WilliamButlerYeats #poetry #Yeats

#Yeats endures. Even 76 years after his death, his words are quoted frequently in the articles I read and sometimes unknowingly

An extraordinary poetic talent

#Mastodaoine #IrishWriters #Poetry
https://mastodon.ie/@IrishStewPodcast/113908428876992436

#Yeats endures. Even 76 years after his death, his words are quoted frequently in the articles I read and sometimes unknowingly

An extraordinary poetic talent

#Mastodaoine #IrishWriters #Poetry
https://mastodon.ie/@IrishStewPodcast/113908428876992436

#Quotes #Stillness #Quiet #Yeats

"We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet."
— W.B. Yeats

#Quotes #Stillness #Quiet #Yeats

"We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet."
— W.B. Yeats

"Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream?"
(W.B. Yeats - The rose of the world)

In My Rosary - The rose of the world
https://youtu.be/2hJk_rqjc64?si=nijVDyEksfJ5X-pQ

#Winter #Winterstimmung
#Yeats #Lyrik #Darkwave

"Who dreamed that beauty passes like a dream?"
(W.B. Yeats - The rose of the world)

In My Rosary - The rose of the world
https://youtu.be/2hJk_rqjc64?si=nijVDyEksfJ5X-pQ

#Winter #Winterstimmung
#Yeats #Lyrik #Darkwave

In this house...: Yeats The Second Coming made into the form of a smarmy affirmation lawn sign
https://fiasco.social/@kellan/113754271284828274
#inthishouse #parody #poetry #funny #yeats #2025 #+

if i could understand how the diagrams are supposed to work it would be killer to do the double gyre from https://www.yeatsvision.com/Geometry.html https://www.yeatsvision.com/Wheel.html

the spiraling zigzags in gold, blue background for the sphere, put the numbers in roman numerals so they look cooler... maybe do some text from one of the poems round the edge....

#yeats

if i could understand how the diagrams are supposed to work it would be killer to do the double gyre from https://www.yeatsvision.com/Geometry.html https://www.yeatsvision.com/Wheel.html

the spiraling zigzags in gold, blue background for the sphere, put the numbers in roman numerals so they look cooler... maybe do some text from one of the poems round the edge....

#yeats

yeatsforkrauts_vol5: Das Werk über die Lebenszeit , grafisch --> https://www.clauswilcke.com/blog/yeatsforkrauts_5_-das-werk-ueber-die-lebenszeit-grafisch

#Yeats #WilliamButlerYeats

@oldbookillustrations “I had thought it was myself, a body in which I could go out into the astral - at a quarter to 11 last night I put on this body & thought strongly of you & desired to go to you.” ~Maud Gonne

#Yeats https://poets.org/text/letter-w-b-yeats

@oldbookillustrations “I had thought it was myself, a body in which I could go out into the astral - at a quarter to 11 last night I put on this body & thought strongly of you & desired to go to you.” ~Maud Gonne

#Yeats https://poets.org/text/letter-w-b-yeats

TO A CHILD DANCING UPON THE SHORE

Dance there upon the shore;
What need have you to care
For wind or water's roar?
And tumble out your hair
That cold salt drops have wet;
So young you have not known
Triumphant fools, nor yet
Love lost as soon as won.
Though bold Cú Chulainn dead
And all the sheaves to bind,
What need have you to dread
The monstrous troll of time?

-
w0dz
after WBYeats 1912 😉

#vss365 #trolls
#poem #poetry #poetrycommunity

yes, i rewrote #yeats. Bite me 😈