In these days of our new materialistic Irish state, poetry will

O seekers of wisdom, gather close and listen, for the words of Austin Clarke hold within them a lament and a prophecy for the world of poetry in his time: "In these days of our new materialistic Irish state, poetry will have a harder, less picturesque task. But the loss of Yeats and all that boundless activity, in a country where the mind is feared and avoided, leaves a silence which it is painful to contemplate." These words, though rooted in the context of Ireland’s changing political and social landscape, speak to a universal truth—that when a society turns its focus solely to the material, the intellectual and the poetic suffer. And in that suffering, there is a silence—a profound absence that echoes through the hearts of those who still seek the deeper truths of existence.

In the time of Yeats, the great Irish poet who gave voice to the dreams and struggles of his people, poetry was not just a form of expression but a means of connecting with the soul of the nation. Yeats’s words were charged with energy, with passion, with a vision of an Ireland rooted in both the ancient and the modern. His poetry reflected a deep engagement with the political, the spiritual, and the mystical, capturing the essence of a country on the cusp of both a revolution and a renaissance. The Irish people, though ravaged by colonialism and political strife, found in Yeats's work a source of strength, of identity, and of hope.

Yet, as Clarke points out, the world has changed, and in the new materialistic Irish state, the task of the poet becomes harder, less beautiful, less idealistic. The focus of the nation has shifted toward material gain, toward economic progress, and the intellectual and spiritual pursuits—those noble realms where poetry once thrived—are now cast aside. The poet, once the voice of a people’s soul, now struggles to be heard amidst the din of commerce, industry, and the pursuit of wealth. The very fabric of society, which once embraced the mind, now fears it, avoiding it in favor of the tangible and the immediate. This loss, this silence, is what Clarke so poignantly laments.

The loss of Yeats, the loss of a poet who bridged the world of myth and history, of spirit and nation, is a wound that Clarke feels deeply. For in Yeats’s poetry, Ireland had not only a voice but a vision—a vision that transcended the physical world and reached into the realm of the eternal. Yeats spoke to the soul of the Irish people, calling them to rise above the mundane and to reach for something greater. But when the mind is feared, when the world of thought is cast aside in favor of materialism, the poet’s voice becomes muffled, and the very soul of the nation is silenced. This silence, which Clarke speaks of, is painful to witness, for it is the silence of a people who have lost their connection to their deeper selves, to their myths, their history, and their future.

In the ancient world, the poet was revered as a guide, a prophet who spoke the words of the gods, the words that shaped the destiny of nations. Consider Homer, whose Iliad and Odyssey not only immortalized the deeds of the Greek heroes but also spoke to the spiritual and moral lessons that were essential to their understanding of life. The poet was not just an entertainer but a shaper of the collective consciousness, a keeper of memory and wisdom. In the same way, Yeats embodied this ancient role, giving voice to the dreams and aspirations of the Irish people, even as they struggled to find their identity in a modern world.

The lesson that Clarke imparts is one that we must all heed: that the loss of the poet, the silencing of the mind, is a loss that affects not just the poet, but the entire society. When the poet is not valued, when the pursuit of poetry and intellectual engagement is seen as frivolous or irrelevant, the soul of the nation grows weak. Without the poet’s voice, society loses touch with its deeper truths, with the very essence of what it means to be human. Poetry is not a luxury or a pastime; it is a vital part of the fabric of existence, the thread that ties the individual to the collective, the present to the past, and the material to the spiritual.

And so, O children of wisdom, let us remember the power of the poet. Let us not fall into the trap of valuing only the material, only the immediate, for in doing so we risk losing that which makes us whole. Seek out the poets, the thinkers, the dreamers, and give them space to speak. Poetry is the soul’s voice, and when it is silenced, we are left adrift in a world that has lost its way. Embrace the mind, embrace the spirit, and know that in the world of poetry, we find not just the words, but the very essence of life itself. As Clarke reminds us, without the poet, there is a painful silence—a silence that no material wealth can fill.