The foul rag and bone of the heart

[JPablo]

The context of it is here. (By William Butler Yeats)

http://www.web-books.com/Classics/Poetry/Anthology/Yeats/Circus.htm

Anyone has a good translation for it into Spanish?

Any interpretation of the sentence?

Any comments?

(Actually the line, in another place is with hyphens)
The foul-and-bone shop of the heart

I found this comment in the net as well, (I kind of get the idea but a literal interpretation of what he is actually saying will help me!)

"The final lines from Yeats's very late poem, 'The Circus Animals Desertion' are often quoted as evidence that here, at last, the poet sees through his own enchantment with dreams and images, and after a long career of pursuing them now turns in a radically new direction—inwards, to a more humanly gritty response to the world. But has there ever been a more sensational promise to lie down? We all have hearts, presumably, but only Yeats can call up a 'foul rag-and-bone shop' of one at the very instant when he claims to be bidding farewell to "masterful images." It was a fitting way to end his career of not lying down."

Ah, I also found the "rag and bone man" in Wikipedia... so everything starts to make more sense to me, but any answers and comments are still welcome. (Awesome poetry, of this 'kid'... Yeats!)

[Rusty]

The context of it is here. (By William Butler Yeats)

http://www.web-books.com/Classics/Poetry/Anthology/Yeats/Circus.htm

Anyone have a good translation for it into Spanish?

Any interpretation of the sentence? Interpretation below.

Any comments?

(Actually the line, in another place is with hyphens)
The foul-and-bone shop of the heart

I found this comment in the net as well, (I kind of get the idea but a literal interpretation of what he is actually saying will help me!)

"The final lines from Yeats's very late poem, 'The Circus Animals Desertion' are often quoted as evidence that here, at last, the poet sees through his own enchantment with dreams and images, and after a long career of pursuing them now turns in a radically new direction—inwards, to a more humanly gritty response to the world. But has there ever been a more sensational promise to lie down? We all have hearts, presumably, but only Yeats can call up a 'foul rag-and-bone shop' of one at the very instant when he claims to be bidding farewell to "masterful images." It was a fitting way to end his career of not lying down."A rag-and-bone shop doesn't exist anymore. A scrapyard comes close, and a pawn shop is a scaled up version, I would guess.
A rag-and-bone shop was essentially a guy with a cart who would roam the streets and alleys looking for 'cast-offs'. The collectors, or 'totters', as they were known, didn't exist much before 1588, when Elizabeth I started to grant privileges to them. Rags were turned into paper. Bones were turned into soap or glue.

[JPablo]

Thank you, Rusty. (For the answer and the correction... re-correction of my "has/have"... I should know that by now!)

I also found a translation of the line... ("Trapería" sounds like matching the idea you mention.)

Now that my ladder's gone,/ I must lie down where all the ladders start,/ In the foul rag-and-bone shop of the heart.(1)

1 "Ahora que ha desaparecido mi escalera/ debo acostarme donde todas las escaleras empiezan,/ en la sucia trapería del corazón." Trad. Enrique C. Trejo.