sábado, 8 de setembro de 2007

poem_ David Whyte


THE POET AS HUSBAND I write in a small shadowed corner in order to bear light into the world, though the light is not my own. My darkness is no darkness to you and nothing you should wish upon yourself, but my light shall also be your light, in which we shall see differently but gloriously. I am not lame inside me, no matter that I drag my foot, I have run here through all my infirmities to bring you news of a battle already won. Let my last breath speak victory into the world. The race is run and shall be run again, joyfully, and you shall run with me, the territory opened to us like returned laughter or remembered childhood. Remember, I was here, and you were here, and together we made a world.

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