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Yeats, William Butler: The travail of passion

Portre of Yeats, William Butler

The travail of passion (English)

When the flaming lute-thronged angelic door is wide;
When an immortal passion breathes in mortal clay;
Our hearts endure the scourge, the plaited thorns, the way
Crowded with bitter faces, the wounds in palm and side,
The vinegar-heavy sponge, the flowers by Kedron stream;
We will bend down and loosen our hair over you,
That it may drop faint perfume, and be heavy with dew,
Lilies of death-pale hope, roses of passionate dream.



Uploaded byP. T.
Source of the quotationhttp://www.sacred-texts.com

A szenvedés vajúdása (Hungarian)

Ha angyal-kapu tárul fénylőn, s szól lantzene,
ha él porhüvelyünkben az örök szenvedés,
szívünknek fáj az ostor, töviskorona és
a zord arcok az úton, a test s tenyér sebe,
ecetes spongya és a Kedron-part tavaszon; rád
hajlunk akkor, s megoldjuk hajunk, hogy szórja bágyadt
illatát, míg a harmat mossa, halotti-sápadt
remény liliomát, bús álmok rózsacsokrát.



Uploaded byP. T.
Source of the quotationK. L.

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