domingo, 25 de abril de 2010


When my love was away,
Full three days were not sped,
I caught my fancy astray
Thinking if she were dead,

And I alone, alone:
It seem'd in my misery
In all the world was none
Ever so lone as I.

I wept; but it did not shame
Nor comfort my heart: away
I rode as I might, and came
To my love at close of day.

The sight of her still'd my fears,
My fairest-hearted love:
And yet in her eyes were tears:
Which when I question'd of,

'O now thou art come,' she cried,
''Tis fled: but I thought to-day
I never could here abide,
If thou wert longer away.'

Robert Seymour Bridges

Um comentário:

  1. Gosto muito da sonoridade destes versos do Seymor Bridges, e eles trazem uma mensagem linda sobre a transmutação da dor em arte. Grande abraço, minha querida amiga.