Thanatopsis - Dalla Nebbia

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Thanatopsis

Đóng góp: northmen

When last I sit upon this dull chair
I watch the movement of the celestial eternity
And provoke my final thoughts
Upon the darkened night.

With chilled breath, the spirit burns
My throat, my heart, my thoughts
The wind is longer at my back.

The fog is my bereaving shroud
When thoughts of the last bitter hour come like a blight
Over thy spirit, and sad images
Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall
And breathless darkness
Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart
Go forth, under the open sky.

Listen to Nature's teachings
From Earth and her waters, and the depths of air
Comes a still voice.

Wait a few days, and the all-beholding sun shall see no more
Within the cold ground, where thy pale form was laid
Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image.

Requiring breath, you soak in what still remains
Though knowing that at the cusp of the void
There is still a sense of longing, a tired hope, a need for a beyond
Play that against the knowing that eternity is an illusion.

Being is like that of oak
Strength, weakened, wrought with decay
Height, shortened, truncated by time
Beauty, withered, years bring dust.

But still I stand
And nature shan't claim a price until reckoning.

Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim
Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again
And, lost each human trace, surrendering up
Thine individual being, shalt thou go
To mix forever with the elements
When thy remains rest buried
Or your countenance and body are ash.

With chilled breath, the spirit burns
My throat, my heart, my thoughts
The only trace is memory
And even that fades. Even that dies.

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