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Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatevere gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circustance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but onbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find me unafraid.

It matter not how strait the gate,

How charged wit punishments the scroll.

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

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Poezii Romanesti