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letra de thomas hardy - the dead man walking - ghizela rowe

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they hail me as one living
but don’t they know
that i have died of late years
untombed although?

i am but a shape that stands here
a pulseless mould
a pale past picture, screening
ashes gone cold

not at a minute’s warning
not in a loud hour
for me ceased time’s enchantments
in hall and bower

there was no tragic transit
no catch of breath
when silent seasons inched me
on to this death ….

— a troubadour-youth i rambled
with life for lyre
the beats of being raging
in me like fire

but when i practised eyeing
the goal of men
it iced me, and i perished
a little then
when passed my friend, my kinsfolk
through the last door
and left me standing bleakly
i died yet more;

and when my love’s heart kindled
in hate of me
wherefore i knew not, died i
one more degree

and if when i died fully
i cannot say
and changed into the corpse-thing
i am to-day

yet is it that, though whiling
the time somehow
in walking, talking, smiling
i live not now

- ghizela rowe

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