segunda-feira, outubro 06, 2008


Boécio e a Filosofia, Mattia Preti (séc. XVII)

Book I

I who once wrote songs with joyful zeal
Am driven by grief to enter weeping mode.
See the Muses, cheeks all torn, dictate,
And wet my face with elegiac verse.
No terror could discourage them at least
From coming with me on my way.
They were the glory of my happy youth
And still they comfort me in hapless age.
Old age came suddenly by suffering sped,
And grief then bade her government begin:
My hair untimely white upon my head,
And I worn out bone-bag hung with flesh.

Boethius. The Consolation of Philosophy

«The Consolation of Philosophy has been many things to many men»
(da introdução da Penguin, 1999)