Wednesday, 10 November 2010

Christmas Poems: The Magi


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William Butler Yeats (1916)

Now as at all times I can see in the mind�s eye,
In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones
Appear and disappear in the blue depth of the sky
With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,
And all their helms of silver hovering side by side,
And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more,
Being by Calvary�s turbulence unsatisfied,
The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.
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