O what can ail thee... letra

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The thoughts have withered from thy brain
And they have lost their sting.

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
So haggard and aloof from life?
The harpy's chalice's overfull
And the soul's in strife.

I see a scar shining from thy brow
By harshness torn and fever-dew,
The blade: it swingeth from thy neck,
Thy tongue: fast withered too.

I let my notions in the past
A prey of sense - a prey of mind
My foot is lame, my head is drunk
And mine eyes shine blind.

And so I lullèd me asleep
Though never dreamt, though never woke,
Into the latest sleep I ever slept
In the numb life's cloak.

And this is why I sojourn here
So lone and palely loitering,
While thoughts have withered from thy brain
And they have lost their sting.

I let my notions in the past...

Printed At Bismarck's Death - Letras

• Ηδονη
• Π...S-;31:
• Äsop ist tot
• Bethsabee (2.Samuel 11)
• Burning Minstrel
• Camuanorghia
• Charisma
• Dead mediocrities
• Drapa
• Embryo
• Excelsior Drowning
• Frights of the retina
• Goethe's waxworx
• Hands of the dome
• House of the rising sun
• Jevers-Sand
• Lament - con odio
• Laokoon
• Last hour's sleep (Edit)
• Looking for words for Vukovar
• MacBanquo
• Meet Moshe Dayan in a Russian bunker
• Never send flowers to a clergyman's funeral
• O what can ail thee...
• Ophelia on the 7th floor
• Pseudo-Philon
• Sacrifizio dell'intelletto
• Sheherazade (parla d'exorcisme)
• The Rusty Rivers
• The wasted land
• Three victims of bloody March