jueves, 15 de abril de 2010


by William Ernest Henley

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.

2 comentarios:

  1. Este comentario ha sido eliminado por el autor.

  2. Este poema es capaz de rescatar a un suicida. No importa las veces que lo lea, siempre me pone los pelos de punta. Es sencillamente prefecto.

    ¡Gracias por la bienvenida, solete! How you doing? :)

    Kisses retornables ***