Harriet (harriet_yuuko) wrote,

The bitter glass

Questa è... uhm... diciamo una risposta!^^ Senza pretese, solo...con un mare di affetto.

The two trees (W.B. Yeats)

Beloved, gaze in thine own heart,
The holy tree is growing there;
From joy the holy branches start,
And all the trembling flowers they bear.
The changing colours of its fruit
Have dowered the stars with merry light;
The surety of its hidden root
Has planted quiet in the night;
The shaking of its leafy head
Has given the waves their melody,
And made my lips and music wed,
Murmuring a wizard song for thee.

There the Loves a circle go,
The flaming circle of our days,
Gyring, spiring to and fro
In those great ignorant leafy ways;
Remembering all that shaken hair
And how the winged sandals dart,
Thine eyes grow full of tender care;
Beloved, gaze in thine own heart.

Gaze no more in the bitter glass
The demons, with their subtle guile,
Lift up before us when they pass,
Or only gaze a little while;
For there a fatal image grows
That the stormy night receives,
Roots half hidden under snows,
Broken boughs and blackened leaves.

For all things turn to barenness
In the dim glass the demons hold,
The glass of outer weariness,
Made when God slept in times of old.
There, through the broken branches, go
The ravens of unresting thought;
Flying, crying, to and fro,
Cruel claw and hungry throat,
Or else they stand and stiff the wind,
And shake their ragged wings: alas!
Thy tender eyes grow all unkind:
Gaze no more in the bitter glass.

(...uhm, sì, può sembrare una risposta semplice, ma io al cuore ci credo, fondamentalmente. Che attraverso il cuore possiamo vedere le cose in una luce diversa. Che se guardiamo lì, troviamo quel briciolino d'amore - per le persone e le cose che abbiamo care - che forse... è quanto ci basta e ci spinge avanti. Verso i nostri obiettivi.
Il vetro deformante dei pensieri negativi falsa la realtà, ce la mostra spaventosa. E nessuno è immune da esso. Però...I nostri occhi sono davvero più belli, quando guardiamo nel nostro cuore.)

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