Leaves of grass

“I am the man; I suffered, I was there.“

Whitman

Just another tip

Stasera così, Hugeman lì, io qui! 😉

The last Rose of summer – Thomas Moore 1813

 

‘ Tis the last rose of summer,
Left  blooming alone ;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone ;
No flower of her kindred,
No rose-bud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh.

I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one !
To pine on the stem ;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o’er the bed,
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow,
When friendships decay,
And from Love’s shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie wither’d,
And fond ones are flown,
Oh ! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone ?

 

À lire…

”Jamais je n’ai jamais été si convaincu de cette vérité, quel mon amour pour vous est ma religion”

Gérard de Nerval