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I never saw a man who looked With such a wistful eye Upon that little tent of blue Which prisoners call the sky, And at every wandering cloud that trailed Its raveled fleeces by. So, like things of stone in a valley lone, Quiet we sat and dumb: But it is not sweet with nimble feet To dance upon the air! And the crimson stain that was of Cain Became Christ’s snow-white seal.
For he who lives more lives than one More deaths than one must die.
De profundis-La ballata del carcere di Reading : Oscar Wilde :
With mop and mow, we saw them go, Slim shadows hand in hand: How else but through a broken heart May Lord Christ enter in? ComiXology Thousands of Digital Comics. What word of grace in such a place Could help a brother’s soul? So they kept us close till nigh on noon, And then they rang the bell, And the Warders with their jingling keys Opened each listening cell, And down the iron stair we tramped, Each from his separate Xarcere.
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That night the empty corridors Were full of forms of Fear, And up and down the iron town Stole feet we could not hear, And through the bars that hide the stars White faces seemed to peer. Please click here to manage your MP3 cart content. And there, till Christ call forth the dead, In silence let him lie: Additional taxes may apply.
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De profundis-La ballata del carcere di Reading
For only catcere can wipe out blood, And only tears can heal: And twice a day the Chaplain called And left a little tract. For who can say by what strange way, Christ brings his will to light, Since the barren staff the pilgrim bore Bloomed in the great Pope’s sight? URL consultato il 12 agosto And all the while the burning lime Eats flesh and bone away, It eats the brittle bone by night, And the soft flesh by the day, It eats the flesh reasing bones by turns, But it eats the heart alway.
It is only what is good in Man That wastes and withers there: About, about, in ghostly rout They trod a saraband: And we forgot the bitter lot Carcwre waits for fool and knave, Till once, as we tramped in from work, We passed an open grave.
The Ballad of Reading Gaol by Oscar Wilde – Poems |
And all the woe that moved him so That he gave that bitter cry, And the wild regrets, and the bloody sweats, None knew so well as I: For Man’s grim Justice goes its way, And will not swerve aside: They stripped him of his canvas clothes, And gave him to the flies; They mocked the swollen purple throat And the stark and staring eyes: And bitter wine upon a sponge Was the savior of Remorse.
Only a stretch of mud and sand By the hideous prison-wall, And a little heap of burning lime, That the man should have his pall. Traduzione di Alberto Rossatti.
The Doctor said that Death was but A scientific fact: Shrimpton and Son, I walked, with other souls in pain, Within another ring, And was wondering if the man had done A great or little thing, When a voice behind me whispered low, ” That fellow’s got to swing. And as one sees most fearful things In the crystal of a dream, We saw the greasy hempen rope Hooked to the blackened beam, And heard the prayer the hangman’s snare Strangled into a scream.
And the ccarcere and staring eyes, Waits for the holy hands that took The Thief to Paradise; And a broken and a contrite heart The Lord will not despise.