或許世上很多事情都是這樣。
當你終於可以掙脫束縛,決定捨棄一切去追尋的時候,
卻發現已經滄海桑田。
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[PR]上記の広告は3ヶ月以上新規記事投稿のないブログに表示されています。新しい記事を書く事で広告が消えます。
只是突然想貼一下一首滿喜歡的黯黑系詩文,英國文學人會明白的。
Examination at the Womb Door By Ted Hughes
Who owns those scrawny little feet? Death.
Who owns this bristly scorched-looking face? Death.
Who owns these still-working lungs? Death.
Who owns this utility coat of muscles? Death.
Who owns these unspeakable guts? Death.
Who owns these questionable brains? Death.
All this messy blood? Death.
These minimum-efficiency eyes? Death.
This wicked little tongue? Death.
This occasional wakefulness? Death.
Given, stolen, or held pending trial?
Held.
Who owns the whole rainy, stony earth? Death.
Who owns all of space? Death.
Who is stronger than hope? Death.
Who is stronger than the will? Death.
Stronger than love? Death.
Stronger than life? Death.
But who is stronger than Death?
Me, evidently.
Pass, Crow.
P.S.甚麼是生存?甚麼是幸福?