Robin Williams is dead

O CAPTAIN! my Captain! our fearful trip is done;

The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won;

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring:

    But O heart! heart! heart!
         5
      O the bleeding drops of red,

        Where on the deck my Captain lies,

          Fallen cold and dead.

  
2

O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;

Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills;
  10
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding;

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

    Here Captain! dear father!

      This arm beneath your head;

        It is some dream that on the deck,
  15
          You’ve fallen cold and dead.

  
3

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still;

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;

The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done;

From fearful trip, the victor ship, comes in with object won;
  20
    Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

      But I, with mournful tread,

        Walk the deck my Captain lies,

          Fallen cold and dead.


Nie żyje Robin Williams. Powiesił się. Cierpiał na depresję. Jestem w szoku. Nie spodziewałem się takiej własnej reakcji. Jakby się skończyła epoka. Wychowałem się na filmach z nim. Jak niewiele wiemy o tym, co się dzieje we wrażliwych umysłach...
Jakoś to rozumiem.