quarta-feira, 5 de agosto de 2009

An Imitation of Blake

As I wept in valleys wild

Crying out in bowers green,

From a tree came out a child

Whom to others rest unseen.

“Why art thou in such a woe?”

- Oh, you’ll never understand.

So he glanced inside my soul

And then took me by my hand.

“Look the trees, the joy of spring,

See the bower, the smiling lea,

Hear the birds, they happily sing,

Feel the nature lean to thee.

These trees shall forever stay,

This bower will forever be,

Death will take these birds away

But others then shall sing to thee.

But thou shalt not forever stay

Neither shalt forever be.

One day, alas! The icy clay

Shall shut thy earthly revelry.

But if thou lovest thy living breath

And everything to thee is mild

Why canst thou love also thy death?”

And then I looked that merry child:

And I hugged him close to me,

And we played until we sate,

And when I close my eyes I see

That smiling boy, and call him Fate.

Um comentário:

  1. I like it :) There's a few words I would change, to make it (to me) flow better, but that's probably just me being picky. You have a really nice style of writing!

    oh, and I'm the one who commented once before by the way :)