Monday, July 17, 2006


TREAD lightly, she is near
Under the snow,
Speak gently, she can hear
The daisies grow.

All her bright golden hair 5
Tarnished with rust,
She that was young and fair
Fallen to dust.

Lily-like, white as snow,
She hardly knew 10
She was a woman, so
Sweetly she grew.

Coffin-board, heavy stone,
Lie on her breast,
I vex my heart alone 15
She is at rest.

Peace, Peace, she cannot hear
Lyre or sonnet,
All my life’s buried here,
Heap earth upon it.


(Oscar Wilde)


fabiana said...


Edward Phelan said...

Grazie Fabiana! E messa in musica dai Gráda (il gruppo irlandese della foto) è ancora più bella... Davvero struggente. Oscar Wilde l'aveva scritta per la morte della sorella minore.