s'!dp=kjçè§ exes

13/04/2007

s8 :: death be not proud



DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

John Donne
(vers 1630)

2 commentaires:

Agla a dit…

poï poï poï !
les méandres de tes fotos de matières cérébrales s'agitent dans la lumière, Fredlux.
be back… con besos, siempre !

flukux a dit…

sun is shining
weather is sweet...

Qui ? Quoi ??

Ma photo
Paris, France
a reactive sign of relative life