Between alarms I would rush to the company office to read Captain Gray's copy of the Sunday New York Times. It was late in the
afternoon when I finally got to the Book Review section(纽约时报的书评版). As I read it, my blood began to boil. An article
blatantly stated what I took to be a calumny -- that William Butler Yeats(叶芝,威廉·巴特勒1865-1939爱尔兰作家,被认为是20世纪最
伟大的诗人之一),
WoW Gold,the Nobel Prize-winning light of the Irish Literary Renaissance, had
transcended his Irishness and was forever to be known as a universal poet.
There were few things I was more proud of than my Irish heritage, and ever since I first picked up a book of his poems from a
barracks shelf when I was in the military,
WoW Gold,Yeats had been my favorite Irish writer,
followed by Sean O'Casey and James Joyce.
My ancestors were Irish farmers, fishermen and blue-collar workers, but as far as I can tell, they all had a feeling for
literature. It was passed on to my own mother, a telephone operator(话务员), who hardly ever sat down without a book in her hands.
And at that moment my own fingernails might have been soiled with the soot of the day's fires, but I felt as prepared as any
Trinity don to stand up in the court of public opinion and protest. Not only that Yeats had lived his life and written his poetry
through the very essence of his Irish sensibility,
wotlk power leveling,**** but that it was offensive to think Irishness -- no matter if it was psychological, social or literary -- was
something to be transcended.
The typewriter was so old that I had to use just one finger to type, my strongest one, even though I could type with all ten. I
grabbed the first piece of clean paper
buy WoW Gold,I could find -- one that had the logo of the
Fire Department of the City of New York across the top