bugün

bir yeats şiiri; şöyle.

why should i blame her* that she filled my days
with misery, or that she would of late
have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
or hurled the little streets upon the great,
had they but courage equal to desire?
what could have made her peaceful with a mind
that nobleness made simple as a fire,
with beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
that is not natural in an age like this,
being high and solitary and most stern?
why, what could she have done being what she is?
was there another troy for her to burn?

irlanda'nın şiirin yazıldığı dönemde, 1912 yıllarındaki politik durumunu

Helen ve Truva'nın hikayesini

Maud gonne ve yeats'in ilişkisini

öğrendiğinizde müthiş bir şiir olduğunu anlarsınız.

"was there another troy for her to burn?" sorusunun cevabını zaten vermiştir yeats: No second troy.