Am terminat anul cu o poezie superba.
Incep anul cu alta poezie superba, de data asta scrisa de William Ernest Henley.
INVICTUS
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
:) Unii ar rade si ar spune ca parca e scrisa la comanda! Ehh, doar se potriveste. Atat!
2 comentarii:
Nu mi se pare scrisa la comanda. e frumoasa!
stiu ca e frumoasa.
eu ma refeream la fa[tul ca mi se potriveste atat de bine de parca ar fi scrisa la comanda.
:)
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