ANTÁRTIDA

Primeiro post sobre os continentes.

Peço desculpa pelo primarismo, mas Antártida só me evoca frio e morte. Podia ser a pintura de Caspar David Friedrich, mas essa já a usei aqui no blogue. Fico-me por Paul Nash (1889-1946) e o seu Totes Meer. E por Charlotte Brontë.

On the Death of Anne Brontë

There’s little joy in life for me,
And little terror in the grave;
I’ve lived the parting hour to see
Of one I would have died to save.

Calmly to watch the failing breath,
Wishing each sigh might be the last;
Longing to see the shade of death
O’er those belovèd features cast.

The cloud, the stillness that must part
The darling of my life from me;
And then to thank God from my heart,
To thank Him well and fervently;

Although I knew that we had lost
The hope and glory of our life;
And now, benighted, tempest-tossed,
Must bear alone the weary strife.