be near me when my light is low,
when the blood creeps, and the nerves prick
and tingle; and the heart is sick,
and all the wheels of being slow.
be near me when the sensuous frame
is rack'd with pangs that conquer trust;
and time, a maniac scattering dust,
and life, a fury slinging flame.
be near me when my faith is dry,
and men the flies of latter spring,
that lay their eggs, and sting and sing
and weave their petty cells and die.
be near me when i fade away,
to point the term of human strife,
and on the low dark verge of life
the twilight of eternal day.
when the blood creeps, and the nerves prick
and tingle; and the heart is sick,
and all the wheels of being slow.
be near me when the sensuous frame
is rack'd with pangs that conquer trust;
and time, a maniac scattering dust,
and life, a fury slinging flame.
be near me when my faith is dry,
and men the flies of latter spring,
that lay their eggs, and sting and sing
and weave their petty cells and die.
be near me when i fade away,
to point the term of human strife,
and on the low dark verge of life
the twilight of eternal day.
Not: the Devil's Backbone filminden. Dr. Cacares karşılık beklemeksizin çok sevdiği Carmen'in ölümünü izlerken in memoriam a.h.h şiirinden bu mısraları söylüyor. Pan's Labyrinth filminin yönetmeninin elinden çıkmış, gerilim ve dramın çok güzel harmanlandığı bir film olduğunu da hatırlatayım.
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Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail,
That brings our friends up from the underworld,
Sad as the last which reddens over one
That sinks with all we love below the verge;
So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds
To dying ears, when unto dying eyes
The casement slowly grows a glimmering square;
So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.
Alfred Lord Tennyson'ın bir başka şiirinden...İki şiirin de hüznü aynı hassasiyeti taşıyor gibi.
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