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ECCE PUER*
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Of the dark past
A child was born;
With joy and grief
My heart is torn.
Calm in his cradle The living lies. May love and mercy Unclose his eyes! Young life is breathed On the glass; The world that was not Comes to pass.
A child is sleeping:
An old man gone.
O, father forsaken,
Forgive your son!
* Ecce Puer - Late Latin ecce puer, behold the
boy: Latin ecce, behold + Latin puer, man. [back]
© James Joyce
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© E-magazine LiterNet, 03.02.2000,
№ 2 (3)
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