Friday Poetry Blogging - Take a lesson from Bignose edition

YOU ARE VISITING THE OLD MALKIN(S)WATCH. THAT'S FANTASTIC. PLEASE VISIT THE NEW MALKIN(S)WATCH WHEN YOU GET A CHANCE.

The first 'great literature' I read - or, to be precise, devoured, since I'm sure I was forced to sit through something in Junior High - was an old volume of Cyrano de Bergerac I bought at Powell's Books for $3.50, back when you could still find a below-market bargain at Powell's. Stupid internet, stupid bookfinder.com.

I always loved this speech, and I read it again just last night. It seems to carry new weight every time I read it.

From Cyrano de Bergerac - Rostand, transl. Hooker

I carry my adornments on my soul,
I do not dress up like a popinjay;
But inwardly, I keep my daintiness.
I do not bear with me, by any chance,
An insult not yet washed away -- a conscience
Yellow with unpurged bile -- an honor frayed
To rags, a set of scruples badly worn.
I go caparisoned in gems unseen,
Trailing white plumes of freedom, garlanded
With my good name -- no figure of a man,
But a soul clothed in shining armor, hung
With deeds for decorations, twirling -- thus --
A bristling wit, and swinging at my side
Courage, and on the stones of this old town
Making the sharp truth ring, like golden spurs!