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The Exile's Choice by Victor Hugo

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The Exile's Choice by Victor Hugo

 

Since justice slumbers in the abysm,

Since the crime's crowned with despotism,

Since all most upright souls are smitten,

Since proudest souls are bowed for shame,

Since on the walls in lines of flame

My country's dark dishonour's written;

 

O grand Republic of our sires,

Pantheon filled with sacred fires,

In the free azure golden dome,

Temple with shades immortal thronged!

Since thus thy glory they have wronged,

With "Empire" staining Freedom's home;

 

Since in my country each soul born

Is base; since there are laughed to scorn

The true, the pure, the great, the brave,

The indignant eyes of history,

Honour, law, right, and liberty,

And those, alas! within the grave:

 

Solitude, exile ! I love them !

Sorrow, be thou my diadem !

Poverty love I, -- for 't is pride !

My rugged home winds beat upon;

And even that awful Statue wan

Aye seated silent by my side.

 

I love the woe that proves me strong;

That shadow of fate which all ye throng,

O ye to whom high hearts aye bow, --

Faith, Virtue veiled, stern Dignity,

And thou, proud Exile, Liberty,

And, nobler yet, Devotion, thou!

 

I love this islet lonely, bold, --

Jersey, whereover England's old

Free banner doth the storm-blast brave;

Yon darkling ocean's ebb and flow,

Its vessels, each a wandering plough,

Whose mystic furrow is the wave.

 

I love thy gull, with snowy wing

In pearls to the wind blithe scattering,

O ocean vast, thy sunny spray;

Who darts beneath hugh billows gaping,

Soon from those monstrous throats escaping

As a soul from sorrow flits away!

 

I love the rock, -- how solemn, stern !

Thence hearkening aye the plaint eterne

On the wild air around me shed,

Ever the sullen night outpours,

Of waves that sob on sombre shores,

Of mothers mourning children dead!

 

 

Postscript By God, if only one could read Victor Hugo in his mother tongue (french), he is, arguably , the master literary genuise, sidelining such greats as Shakespeare, Dante, Homer.

 

 

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Postscript By God, if only one could read Victor Hugo in his mother tongue (french), he is, arguably , the master literary genuise, sidelining such greats as Shakespeare, Dante, Homer.

 

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excuse me! bro! vitor n dh the rest of them! cant hold a candle to folks like the sayid, cantar ibin shadad, nakruum, langston hughes... etc.,

 

r u an ario cookie!! blk outside white inside!! whatta load of crab!!

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Originally posted by rudy:

 

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excuse me! bro! vitor n dh the rest of them! cant hold a candle to folks like the sayid, cantar ibin shadad, nakruum, langston hughes... etc.,

 

r u an ario cookie!! blk outside white inside!! whatta load of crab!!

اني انزه عن Ù†Ùسي من جوابكم

كما انزه عن ضرب الكلاب يدي

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