Alla fine della prefazione del saggio di John Donne, In difesa del suicidio , è riportata una sua poesia, Holy Sonnet 10 . La conoscevo già ma mi ha fatto piacere ritrovarla ed è sicuramente adatta al tema trattato dal libro. Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for, thou art not soe, For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow, Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee. From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee doe goe, Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie. Thou art slave to Fate, chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poyson, warre, and sickneses dwell, And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well. And better then thy stroake; why swell’st thou then? One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally, And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die. Morte, non esser superba, pur se t’han
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