MESTRE, FALA POR MIM !

VI
Kick up the fire, and let the flames break lose
To drive the shadows back;
Prolong the talk on this or that excuse,
'Till the night comes to rest
While some high bell is beating two o'clock.
Yet when the guest
Has stepped into the windy street and gone,
Who can confront
The instantaneous grief of being alone?
Or watch the sad increase
Across the mind of this prolific plant,
Dumb idleness ?

de North Ship, Philip Larkin