Poemas (0.021s) Poesía, prosa, comentarios, críticas - Literatura y Cultura Espanola

agonia Agonia.Net | Reglas | Publicidad Contacto | Regístrate


romana Poetry, prose, essays, comments, poems - International Culture and Literature english Poetry, prose, essays, comments, poems - International Culture and Literature francais Poetry, prose, essays, comments, poems - International Culture and Literature italiano Poetry, prose, essays, comments, poems - International Culture and Literature deutsch Poetry, prose, essays, comments, poems - International Culture and Literature espanol Poetry, prose, essays, comments, poems - International Culture and Literature



[ Creación ][ Internet ][ Cultura ][ Sociedad ][ Acontecimientos ][ Artes ][ Libro ][ Polémica ][ Presa ][ Regional ][ Contact ]

poezii



 
Vanitas vanitatis, etc. ::


Vanitas vanitatis, etc.
poemas [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
por Anne Bronte [Anne_Bronte]

2005-12-30  | [Este texto, tienes que leerlo en romana]    |  Inscrito en la biblioteca por Ionescu Bogdan



In all we do, and hear, and see,
Is restless Toil and Vanity;
While yet the rolling earth abides,
Men come and go like Ocean tides;
And ere one generation dies,
Another in its place shall rise.
That sinking soon into the grave,
Others succeed, like wave on wave;
And as they rise, they pass away.
The sun arises every day,
And hastening onward to the west
He nightly sinks but not to rest;
Returning to the eastern skies,
Again to light us he must rise.
And still the restless wind comes forth
Now blowing keenly from the north,
Now from the South, the East, the West;
For ever changing, ne'er at rest.
The fountains, gushing from the hills,
Supply the ever-running rills;
The thirsty rivers drink their store,
And bear it rolling to the shore,
But still the ocean craves for more.
'Tis endless labour everywhere,
Sound cannot satisfy the ear,
Sight cannot fill the craving eye,
Nor riches happiness supply,
Pleasure but doubles future pain;
And joy brings sorrow in her train.
Laughter is mad, and reckless mirth,
What does she in this weary earth?
Should wealth or fame our life employ,
Death comes our labour to destroy,
To snatch th' untasted cup away,
For which we toiled so many a day.
What then remains for wretched man?
To use life's comforts while he can:
Enjoy the blessings God bestows,
Assist his friends, forgive his foes,
Trust God, and keep His statutes still
Upright and firm, through good and ill --
Thankful for all that God has given,
Fixing his firmest hopes on heaven;
Knowing that earthly joys decay,
But hoping through the darkest day.

.  |




printe-mail

Visualizaciones: 542


.Traducciones de este texto:


  Los comentarios de los miembros:






 
shim La casa de la literatura shim
shim

Agonia  Busca  Agonia.Net  Foro  

La reproducción de cualquier texto que pertenece al portal sin nuestro permiso està estrictamente prohibida.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net

E-mail | Política de publicación et confidencialidad

Poemas (0.022s) Poesía, prosa, comentarios, críticas - Literatura y Cultura Espanola

# You own a cultural website? Join the Cultural Topsites!