作者littlebinroy (Ulysses)
看板poetry
標題The Companionable Ills
時間Sat Aug 14 21:45:57 2004
The Companionable Ills
The nose-end that twitches, the old imperfections—
Tolerable now as moles on the face
Put up 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.
—Sylvia Plath
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