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"Part he was of New England stock

As stubborn, close guarded as Plymouth Rock

He thought with his feet most firm on the ground

But his heart and his dreams were not earthbound

He would call New England his place and his creed

But part he was of an alien breed

Of a breed that had laughed on Irish hills

And heard the voices in Irish rills...

He would build empires

And he would have sons

Others would fall

Where the current runs

He would find love

He would never find peace

For he must go seeking

The Golden Fleece

All the things he was going to be

All the things in the wind and the sea."

Jacqueline Kennedy, 1953

Gracias a la Vida
12/09/2017 14:53