To set a crown upon your lifetime's effort.
First, the cold friction of expiring sense
Without enchantment, offering no promise
But bitter tastelessness of shadow fruit
As body and soul begin to fall asunder.
Second, the conscious impotence of rage
At human folly, and the laceration
Of laughter at what ceases to amuse.
And last, the rending pain of re-enactment
Of all that you have done, and been; the shame
Of motives late revealed, and the awareness
Of things ill done and done to others' harm
Which once you took for exercise of virtue.
Then fools' approval stings, and honour stains.
From wrong to wrong the exasperated spirit
Proceeds, unless restored by that refining fire
Where you must move in measure, like a dancer.'
The day was breaking. In the disfigured street
He left me, with a kind of valediction,
And faded on the blowing of the horn."
T.S. Elliot. Little Giding. Parte II.
Alonso Cano (1601-1667). São Francisco Borja. O santo carrega um crânio com o diadema imperial, referência à missão recebida de levar os restos de Isabel de Portugal para o túmulo em Granada. O caixão teve de ser aberto, antes que o cadáver fosse posto na cripta. Profundamente chocado, o bisneto de Alexandre VI jurou nunca mais servir um soberado terreno.
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário