I love this poem – it sends shivers down my spine.
It was what Nelson Mandela read in his jail cell.
Though I am not nearly in the pickle he was, my spirit has taken a bit of a beating, but it is still fighting. The notion of an unconquerable soul resonates with me very deeply.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
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 matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
Addit – if you are out there lurking and want to say hello (that means you, barrister), please do so.
Another thing I heard this week: If you go out feverishly shopping for what you want, you may well miss what it is you need. Good thought, that one.