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domingo, 8 de maio de 2005

Sortes Virgilianae

"All things can tempt me from this craft of verse:
One time it was a woman's face, or worse -
The seeming needs of my fool-driven land;
Now nothing comes but readier to the hand
Than this accustomed toil. When I was young,
I had not given a penny for a song
Did not the poet sing it with such airs
Than one believed he had a sword upstairs;
Yet would be now, could I but have my wish,
Colder and dumber and deafer than a fish."

William Butler Yeats. All Things Can Tempt Me (The Green Helmet and Other Poems), 1910.

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