11.29.06
What is our Life?
Yoelson and I were feeling lazy today so we decided to relax and read some books. After a while we started chatting about poems, we like this one by Sir Walter Raleigh, so we thought we would add it to todays post. All that reading has made us very thirsty, time for some refreshing green tea.
Life
What is our life? A play of passion,
Our mirth the music of division,
Our mother’s wombs the tiring-houses be,
Where we are dressed for this short comedy.
Heaven the judicious sharp spectator is,
That sits and marks still who doth act amiss.
Our graves that hide us from the setting sun
Are like drawn curtains when the play is done.
Thus march we, playing, to our latest rest,
Only we die in earnest, that’s no jest.
Sir Walter Raleigh
