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■ A 8th Bienal do Douro sem limites ![]()
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2009-06-20 | [Este texto deve ser lido em english] | Submetido por jkloungsuh
For God, our God is a gallant foe
That playeth behind the veil. I have loved my God as a child at heart That seeketh deep bosoms for rest, I have loved my God as a maid to man— But lo, this thing is best: To love your God as a gallant foe that plays behind the veil; To meet your God as the night winds meet beyond Arcturus' pale. I have played with God for a woman, I have staked with my God for truth, I have lost to my God as a man, clear-eyed— His dice be not of ruth. For I am made as a naked blade, But hear ye this thing in sooth: Who loseth to God as man to man Shall win at the turn of the game. I have drawn my blade where the lightnings meet But the ending is the same: Who loseth to God as the sword blades lose Shall win at the end of the game. For God, our God is a gallant foe that playeth behind the veil. Whom God deigns not to overthrow hath need of triple mail.
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