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Yeats, William Butler: The White Birds

Portre of Yeats, William Butler

The White Birds (English)

I would that we were, my beloved,

   white birds on the foam of the sea!

We tire of the flame of the meteor,

   before it can fade and flee;

And the flame of the blue star of twilight,

   hung low on the rim of the sky,

Has awakened in our hearts, my beloved,

   a sadness that may not die.


A weariness comes from those dreamers,

   dew-dabbled, the lily and rose;

Ah, dream not of them, my beloved,

   the flame of the meteor that goes,

Or the flame of the blue star that lingers

   hung low in the fall of the dew:

For I would we were changed to white birds

   on the wandering foam: I and you!


I am haunted by numberless islands,

   and many a Danaan shore,

Where Time would surely forget us,

   and Sorrow come near us no more;

Soon far from the rose and the lily,

   and fret of the flames would we be,

Were we only white birds, my beloved,

   buoyed out on the foam of the sea!

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Fehér sirályok (Hungarian)

Volnánk fehér sirályok,

   édes, a gyors habokon!

Még száll a meteor-csík,

   s nekünk már unalom;

s a szürkületi ég-alj

   kék csillaga, kedvesem,

szivünkben bút ébresztett,

   mely nem múlik sosem.


Fáraszt a harmatos álom,

   rózsáké, liliomé;

ne álmodj róluk, édes;

   se a meteor felé

ne epedj; se a kék csillagra

   harmathullás idején:

az volna jó, ha sirályok lennénk

   a habon, te meg én!


Lelkem szigetvilágok

   s partok dala veri fel,

ahol az idő feledne

   s a Bánat nem érne el;

de mögöttünk maradna

   láng, rózsa, liliom,

volnánk csak sirályok,

   édes, a ringató habokon!

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