William Ernest Henley : Invictus
1849 –1903
Des ténèbres qui m'entoure
Des abimes profondes, d'un pôle à l'autre
Je rends grâce à la pensée éternel, qu'importe,
Pour mon âme indomptable.
Dans les terribles circonstances
Je me suis pas lamenté, ni protesté.
Sous les risques, et les dangers du sort
Mon esprit est abattu, mais ne cède pas.
Dans cette vallée d'enfer, de colère et de larmes
L'horreur de la mort se profile
Pourtant cette terreur des siècles
Me ciblant, me trouvera sans peur.
Peu importe à quel point l'issue semble impossible
Qu'autant de comble, de supplice est chargé mon fardeau
Je suis le maître de mon destin :
Je suis le capitaine de mon âme.
La féé Deslilas(Invictus: William Ernest Henley)


William Ernest Henley, born August 23, 1849, was an influential British poet, perhaps best known for his poem “Invictus” (1875). He is the author of A Song of Speed (D. Nutt, 1903), Hawthorn & Lavender with Other Verses (D. Nutt, 1901), and For England’s Sake: Verses and Songs in Time of War (D. Nutt, 1900), among others. He died in Woking, England, on July 11, 1903.
About William Ernest Henley
Invictus
William Ernest Henley
1849 –1903
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.
This poem is in the public domain.
About William Ernest Henley
Invictus
William Ernest Henley
1849 –1903
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.
This poem is in the public domain.