The Companionable Ills
de Sylvia Plath(2005)
1 min lectură
Mediu
The nose-end that twitches, the old imperfections---
Tolerable now as moles on the face
Put up with until chagrin gives place
To a wry complaisance---
Dug in first as God\'s spurs
To start the spirit out of the mud
It stabled in; long-used, became well-loved
Bedfellows of the spirit\'s debauch, fond masters.