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The Folly of Being Comforted - W. B. Yeats

por Carla Hilário Quevedo, em 20.03.08

One that is ever kind said yesterday:

'Your well-beloved's hair has threads of grey,

And little shadows come about her eyes;

Time can but make it easier to be wise

Though now it seems impossible, and so

All that you need is patience.'

                                                     Heart cries, 'No,

I have not a crumb of comfort, not a grain.

Time can but make her beauty over again:

Because of that great nobleness of hers

The fire that stirs about her, when she stirs,

Burns but more clearly. O she had not these ways

When all the wild summer was in her gaze.'


O heart! O heart! If she'd but turn her head,

You'd know the folly of being comforted.

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publicado às 13:14