Friday, December 14, 2007

Fourteen

I will put Chaos into fourteen lines
And keep him there; and let him thence escape
If he be lucky; let him twist, and ape
Flood, fire, and demon — his adroit designs
Will strain to nothing in the strict confines
Of this sweet order, where, in pious rape,
I hold his essence and amorphous shape,
Till he with Order mingles and combines.
Past are the hours, the years of our duress,
His arrogance, our awful servitude:
I have him. He is nothing more nor less
Than something simple not yet understood;
I shall not even force him to confess;
Or answer. I will only make him good.

Edna St. Vincent Millay, "I will put Chaos into fourteen lines".

2 comments:

zoe said...

"caos, luego existo"

runnerfrog said...

Ah! Un renombrado pensamiento que mi filósofa particular, Zoelia, expresara en febrero 11 de este año, creo. ;-)
Pero en su caso, en ocho líneas. Mucho más concisa.
Gracias por recordármela, porque viene al caso de estos meses.

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