jueves, 17 de marzo de 2011

o de cómo murió la dama de Shalott.

(John William Waterhouse)

And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance --
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.

(Alfred, Lord Tennyson)

Todo lo que nos quedaba por vivir a veces no parecía suficiente.

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