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The choice

The intellect of man is forced to choose

Perfection of the life, or of the work,

And if it take the second must refuse

A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.

When all that story’s finished , what’s the news?

In luck or out the toil has left its mark:

That old perplexity an empty purse,

Or the day’s vanity, the night’s remorse.

A escolha

O intelecto do homem deve optar

Por perfeição de vida ou de labor;

E, se esta escolhe, deve rejeitar

Um lar divino, no escuro em furor.

Finda a hiostória, qual é a novidade?

A lida traz marcas, haja ou não sorte:

Bolso vazio, velha perplexidade,

Vaidade de dia, à noite o remorso.

( William Butler Yeats – Tradução : Marcelo Tápia )

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