Friday, December 14, 2007


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".


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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