top of page

The Second Coming / W. B. Yeats

עודכן: 15 ביולי 2023

The Second Coming

W. B. Yeats (1919)


    Turning and turning in the widening gyre

    The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

    Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

    Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

    The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

    The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

    The best lack all conviction, while the worst

    Are full of passionate intensity.

    Surely some revelation is at hand;

    Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

    The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

    When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

    Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;

    A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

    A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

    Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

    Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.

    The darkness drops again but now I know

    That twenty centuries of stony sleep

    Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

    And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

    Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?



ביאת משיח

ויליאם באטלר ייטס (1919)

סוֹבֵב סוֹבֵב הַגִּירוֹסְקוֹפּ הַמִּתְרַחֵב

הַבָּז כְּבָר לֹא יִשְׁמַע אֶת קוֹל שׁוֹלְחֵהוּ;

הַכֹּל קוֹרֵס; צִיר הָעוֹלָם נִשְׁבַּר;