by : Eugene O'Neill
Weary am I of the tumult, sick of the staring crowd,
Pining for wild sea places where the soul may think aloud.
Fled is the glamour of cities, dead as the ghost of a dream,
While I pine anew for the tint of blue on the breast of the old Gulf Stream.
I have had my dance with Folly, nor do I shirk the blame;
I have sipped the so-called Wine of Life and paid the price of shame;
But I know that I shall find surcease, the rest my spirit craves,
Where the rainbows play in the flying spray,
'Mid the keen salt kiss of the waves.
Then it's ho! for the plunging deck of a bark, the hoarse song of the crew,
With never a thought of those we left or what we are going to do;
Nor heed the old ship's burning, but break the shackles of care
And at last be free, on the open sea, with the trade wind in our hair.
source: http://www.love-poems.me.uk/o_neill_free.htm
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported License
Kata-kata seperti sayap, membawa angan terbang ke langit khayal. Kata-kata seperti pisau, menusuk ulu hati dan melukai, atau kadang serupa mantra layaknya perisai, yang melindungi keyakinan! Kata-kata adalah nyawa yang menghidupkan sajak-sajak yang terlahir dari jiwa-jiwa yang gelisah
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By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest.
-- confucius --
-- confucius --
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