OUT of the night that covers me,   
  Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be        
  For my unconquerable soul.
 
In the fell clutch of circumstance             
  I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance  
  My head is bloody, but unbowed.
 
Beyond this place of wrath and tears       
  Looms but the Horror of the shade,       
And yet the menace of the years     
  Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
 
It matters not how strait the gate,   
  How charged with punishments the scroll,      
I am the master of my fate:    

  I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

Photo:  Some rights reserved by w4nd3rl0st (InspiredinDesMoines)
Condividi:

Robert Cheaib

Posta un commento: