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“We will wander no more”: Lord Byron; poem and analysis.
We’ll never roam again (So, We’ll Go No More a Roving) is a poem by the English writer Lord Byron (1788-1824), included in a letter addressed to Thomas Moore dated February 28, 1817.
Later, that letter would appear in the 1830 anthology: Letters and diaries of Lord Byron (Letters and Journals of Lord Byron), and later in: The Works of Lord Byron.
We will not wander again portrays the victory of age and fatigue over the vigor of youth. Curiously, Lord Byron He was barely twenty-nine years old when he composed it, although by then the serious bone deformations of his feet caused him great problems in moving normally.
Lord Byron Here he rehearses a bleak vision of the ephemeral nature of existence. Beyond the borders of melancholy and nostalgia, We will not wander again excludes the love of the future. The future, saturated by physical exhaustion, that pilgrim sadness that crosses the face marked by years, seems to dispense with passion to give way to a twilight philosophical sense of love.
There is something worse than imagining a future without love: conceiving a future where love is inexorably attenuated until it becomes indistinguishable from other, more banal emotions.
We will not wander again It would be a devastating poem if Lord Byron did not appeal to the last bastion of hope: melancholy. The poet does not resign himself, but he remembers, through nostalgia, that which his heart intensely preserves.
We will not wander again.
So, We’ll Go No More a Roving, Lord Byron (1788-1824)
That’s right, we won’t wander again
so late at night,
Although the heart continues to love
and the moon retains the same brilliance.
For just as the sword wears out its sheath,
And the soul consumes the chest,
The heart must also stop to breathe,
and even love must rest.
Although the night was made for love,
and the days return too soon,
Still we will not wander again
under the moonlight.
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself has rest.
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we’ll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.
Lord Byron (1788-1824)
We will wander no more: Lord Byron (English reading)
More poems by Lord Byron. I Gothic Poems.
More gothic literature:
The summary, analysis and translation into Spanish of the poem by Lord Byron: We will not roam again (So, we’ll go no more a roving) They were made by . For reproduction, write to us at
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