The Ballad of Reading Gaol
It's funny, how sometimes you might read a poem several times and it doesn't tell you anything. And then suddenly it speaks directly to your heart and you understand every word of it...
That's what happened with this poem that has been hanging on the wall in my room for two years. It's an extract of the Ballad of Reading Gaol, written by Oscar Wilde.
The Ballad Of Reading Gaol
Yet each man kills the thing he loves,
By each let this be heard,
Some do it with a bitter look,
Some with a flattering word,
The coward does it with a kiss,
The brave man with a sword!
Some kill their love when they are young,
And some when they are old;
Some strangle with the hands of Lust,
Some with the hands of Gold:
The kindest use a knife, because
The dead so soon grow cold.
Some love too little, some too long,
Some sell, and others buy;
Some do the deed with many tears,
And some without a sigh:
For each man kills the thing he loves,
Yet each man does not die.
posted by Sara @ 20:30
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