09/08/07

dos Sentimentos e da Poesia(outra vida)

I stood by the unvintageable sea
Till the wet waves drenched face and hair with spray,
The long red fires of the dying day
Burned in the west; the wind piped drearily;

And to the land the clamorous gulls did flee:
"Alas!" I cried, "my life is full of pain,
And who can garner fruit or golden grain,
From these waste fields which travail ceaselessly!"

My nets gaped wide with many a break and flaw
Into the sea, and waited for the end.

When lo! a sudden glory! and I saw
The argent splendour of white limbs ascend,
And in that joy forgot my tortured past.



Oscar Wilde

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