Sacred Texts  Legends/Sagas  Yeats  Celtic  Index  Previous  Next 

p. 20

HE REPROVES THE CURLEW

O, CURLEW, cry no more in the air,
Or only to the water in the West;
Because your crying brings to my mind
Passion-dimmed eyes and long heavy hair
That was shaken out over my breast:
There is enough evil in the crying of wind.


Next: He Remembers Forgotten Beauty