My spirit is too weak--mortality
Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep,
And each imagined pinnacle adn steep
Of godlike hardship tells me I must die
Like a scik eagle looking at the sky.
Yet 'tis a gentle luxury to weep
That I have not the cloudy winds to keep
Fresh for the opening of the morning's eye.
Such dim-copnceived glories of the brain
Bring round the heart an underscribable feud;
So do these wonders a most dizzy pain,
That mingles Grecian grandeur with the rude
Wasting of old time--with a billowy main--
A sun--a shadow of a magnitude.
Keats, John.
--
縱然陽光可以帶給人們希望
但也要心中充滿希望
才看得到陽光!!
--
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