Death
DEATH
NOR dread nor hope attend
A dying animal;
A man awaits his end
Dreading and hoping all;
Many times he died,
Many times rose again.
A great man in his pride
Confronting murderous men
Casts derision upon
Supersession of breath;
He knows death to the bone -
Man has created death.
W. B. Yeats
posted by Phantom at 2:54 PM
6 Comments:
A palavra existe para comunicar o vivido e o por viver, para resgatar a memória, como também para enunciar os desejos, as esperanças, as várias formas de se fecundar o presente e gestar o futuro.
A única gestação neste poema é a da eternamente fértil morte
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