The Ballad of Reading Gaol.......

After graduation, in the summer of 1983 I set off to search for things I had yet to see. I was so passionate about learning, or more importantly, experiencing new things. In my lust for life, I became enthralled with poetry, albeit somewhat morbid poetry.

While staying with my sister, my brother-in-law introduced me to Oscar Wilde. I had flirted with reading him in high school but my attention span seemed to be more limited. Not because the school I attended lacked in it's education, but rather because my mind chose to dwell on things so much grander then the grey walls that surrounded me.

Recently while having a glass of wine with an old friend from school and being told for the hundredth time about the inadequacies of our education during or formulative years, I remembered an old poem I used to spend hours trying to memorize in my latter teens. This is quite a lengthy poem and I was only able to memorize the first nine paragraphs. To this day, I cannot forget the words they are forever engraved in my memory. In my younger years I dont believe I could truly appreciate the true meaning behind this poem, but 20+ years later, it's words are bittersweet.

The Ballad of Reading Gaol

Excerpt - Oscar Wilde 1898

Yet each man kills the thing he loves,

By each let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

Some with a flattering word,

The coward does it with a kiss,

The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,

And some when they are old;

Some strangle with the hands of Lust,

Some with the hands of Gold:

The kindest use a knife, because

The dead so soon grow cold.

Some love too little, some too long,

Some sell, and others buy;

Some do the deed with many tears,

And some without a sigh:

For each man kills the thing he loves,

Yet each man does not die.