Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Hardy. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Hardy. Mostrar todas las entradas

sábado, 10 de octubre de 2015

Thomas Hardy (1840-1928)

Thomas Hardy, the son of a stonemason, was born in Dorset, England, on June 2, 1840. He trained as an architect and worked in London and Dorset for ten years. Hardy began his writing career as a novelist, publishing Desperate Remedies in 1871, and was soon successful enough to leave the field of architecture for writing. His novels Tess of the D’Urbervilles (1891) andJude the Obscure (1895), which are considered literary classics today, received negative reviews upon publication and Hardy was criticized for being too pessimistic and preoccupied with sex. He left fiction writing for poetry, and published eight collections, including Wessex Poems (1898) and Satires of Circumstance (1912).[1]



jueves, 18 de septiembre de 2014

"The Impercipient" by Thomas Hardy

The Impercipient
Thomas Hardy
 
THAT from this bright believing band
  An outcast I should be,
That faiths by which my comrades stand
  Seem fantasies to me,
And mirage-mists their Shining Land,        5
  Is a drear destiny.
 
Why thus my soul should be consigned
  To infelicity,
Why always I must feel as blind
  To sights my brethren see,        10
Why joys they’ve found I cannot find,
  Abides a mystery.
 
Since heart of mine knows not that ease
  Which they know; since it be
That He who breathes All’s Well to these        15
  Breathes no All’s Well to me,
My lack might move their sympathies
  And Christian charity!
 
I am like a gazer who should mark
  An inland company        20
Standing upfingered, with, “Hark! hark!
  The glorious distant sea!”
And feel, “Alas, ’tis but yon dark
  And wind-swept pine to me!”
 
Yet I would bear my shortcomings        25
  With meet tranquillity,
But for the charge that blessed things
  I’d liefer have unbe.
 
O, doth a bird deprived of wings
  Go earth-bound wilfully!
    .      .      .      .
        30
Enough. As yet disquiet clings
  About us. Rest shall we.

Thomas Hardy (1840–1928)



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