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Leda agus an Eala

A buille tobann: an beating sciatháin mór fós
Os cionn an cailín léirigh, a thighs caressed
De réir na fíocháin dorcha, a nape gafa ina bhille,
Tá sé ina hucht helpless ar a chíche.

Conas is féidir leis na méara doiléir terrified a bhrú
An ghlóir feathered as a thighs loosening?
Agus conas is féidir le comhlacht, atá leagtha sa Rush bán,
Ach is dóigh leis an beating chroí aisteach nuair a luíonn sé?

Tá shudder sa loins gineann sé ann
Tá an balla briste, an díon ar lasadh agus túr
Agus Agamemnon marbh.

A bheith gafa amhlaidh, Mar sin, máistreacht ag an fhuil brute ar an aer,
Ar chuir sí ar a chuid eolais lena chumhacht
Sula bhféadfadh an gob indifferent lig di titim?

poem by William Butler YeatsReport problemRelated quotes
Added by Dan Costinaş
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