No necesitamos tantas razones para hacer o decir lo que tenemos ganas.

viernes, 16 de mayo de 2008

Requiescat (Oscar Wilde)

Tread lightly, she is near
Under the snow,
Speak gently, she can hear
The daisies grow.

All her bright golden hair
Tarnished with rust,
She that was young and fair
Fallen to dust.

Lily-like, white as snow,
She hardly knew
She was a woman, so
Sweetly she grew.

Coffin-board, heavy stone,
Lie on her breast,
I vex my heart alone,
She is at rest.

Peace, peace, she cannot hear
Lyre or sonnet,
All my life's buried here,
Heap earth upon it.


Nada, hoy tenía ganas de postear esto. Este poema fue escrito por Oscar Wilde en memoria de su hermana Isola que murió siendo una niña aún, en 1867.

No hay comentarios: