Found In Translation

This post is a continuation of this post.

I came across this poem in this book. It touched a chord with me then and I would like to share it with you…

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.


by William Ernest Henley; 1849-1903

Note: The title is Latin for 'unconquerable'


Now this is what I call a poem. The sparseness adds to the harshness of reality and the power of simplicity…something that I frankly don’t see enough of. Something that people tend to underestimate these days.

In an interesting twist, Timothy McVeigh prior to his execution on June 11th 2001. This is it...