segunda-feira, 6 de junho de 2011

Childe Harold's Pilgrimage

canto iii estrofe 113

...I have not loved the world, nor the world me;
I have not flattered its rank breath, nor bow'd
To its idolatries a patient knee,
Nor coin'd my cheek to smiles, nor cried aloud
In worship of an echo; in the crowd
They could not deem me one of such; I stood
Among them, but not of them; in a shroud
Of thoughts which were not their thoughts, and still could,
Had I not filed my mind, which thus itself subdued.



Belo trecho de Lord Byron

2 comentários:

dablog disse...

Belas palavras que não cabem na galáxia!

Thiago Nogueira disse...

Eu adoro Lord Byron!