24.11.08

Jag hade gärna kommit till dig men jag blir nog kvar här hos honom

The night is darkening round me,
The wild winds coldly blow;
But a tyrant spell has bound me,
And I cannot, cannot go.

The giant trees are bending
Their bare boughs weighed with snow;
The storm is fast descending,
And yet I cannot go.

Clouds beyond clouds above me,
Wastes beyond wastes below;
But nothing drear can move me:
I will not, cannot go.

/E.B.

2 kommentarer:

Anonym sa...

Du kommer över det.

O God of heaven! The dream of horror,
The frightful dream is over now;
The sickened heart, the blasting sorrow,
The ghastly night, the ghastlier morrow,
The aching sense of utter woe.

The burning tears that would keep welling,
The groan that mocked at every tear,
That burst from our dreary dwelling,
As if each gasp were life expelling,
But life was nourished by despair.

The tossing and the anguished pining,
The grinding teeth and starting eye;
The agony of still repining,
when not a spark of hope was shining
From gloomy fate's reletless sky.

The impatient rage, the useless shrinking
From thoughts that yet could not be borne;
The soul that was for ever thinking,
Till nature maddened, tortured, sinking,
At last refused to mourn.

Cx

Lust och Fägring sa...

Du har så rätt.

But this is past, and why return
O'er such a path to brood and mourn?
Shake off the fetters, break the chain,
And live and love and smile again

The waste of youth, the waste of years,
Departed in that dungeon thrall;
The gnawing grief, the hopeless tears,
Forget them- oh forget them all!