Monday, May 14, 2007

Zebra hunters




Figurative image again. Pure life, pure death symbols. This is "Zebra hunters".


Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so,
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy, or charms can make us sleep as well,
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.
John donne.

3 comments:

Dzeni said...

Love the poem, love the art. Great post.

Giovanni C. said...

...simply the best!

runnerfrog said...

(what happened yesterday?)
Well, Jenni, Donne did the better part. :-)
Giovanni, you always surprise me, man :-)
Well, Tai, a documentary tag will work, then. :-)

Thanks for the attention guys.

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