Nelson Mandela, by an unknown artist (Image found on Google)
(SCREAMING INTERNALLY A-OOO! A-OOO!!!)
I can't believe I've been posting and running this blog for 300 days. Some days it seems like it's been forever since I started it, and some days it feels like it was just yesterday. Anyway, today I want to show you a poem that has kept me going - as it did with the incredible Nelson Mandela - and giving me strengh and energy to accomplish all my duties.
It is a short Victorian poem by the English poet William Ernest Henley (1849–1903). It was written in 1875 and published in 1888 in his first volume of poems, Book of Verses, where it is the fourth poem in the section Life and Death (Echoes). It originally had no title.
I hope it inspires you too. And many thanks to my friend Leo who showed me this marvelous poem!
I can't believe I've been posting and running this blog for 300 days. Some days it seems like it's been forever since I started it, and some days it feels like it was just yesterday. Anyway, today I want to show you a poem that has kept me going - as it did with the incredible Nelson Mandela - and giving me strengh and energy to accomplish all my duties.
It is a short Victorian poem by the English poet William Ernest Henley (1849–1903). It was written in 1875 and published in 1888 in his first volume of poems, Book of Verses, where it is the fourth poem in the section Life and Death (Echoes). It originally had no title.
I hope it inspires you too. And many thanks to my friend Leo who showed me this marvelous poem!
Invictus
by William Ernest Henley
"Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul."
by William Ernest Henley
"Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul."
~Ally
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