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Written from the perspective of confinement, it describes sorrow as a dominating atmosphere where even time and thought seem to lose motion, leaving a perpetual twilight within the heart. Wilde reflects on grief after his mother’s death, the spiritual sensitivity of sorrow, and the transforming power of love shown through a small, silent act toward prisoners. He contrasts compassion toward the poor with the stigma faced by those of higher rank in prison.",{"@graph":69,"@context":123},[70,84,106],{"@type":71,"itemListElement":72},"BreadcrumbList",[73,77,79,82],{"item":74,"name":75,"@type":76,"position":8},"https://docshare.wps.com","Home","ListItem",{"item":78,"name":9,"@type":76,"position":14},"https://docshare.wps.com/document/",{"item":80,"name":15,"@type":76,"position":81},"https://docshare.wps.com/document/literature/",3,{"item":83,"name":65,"@type":76,"position":19},"https://docshare.wps.com/document/de-profundis-oscar-wilde/426031/",{"url":83,"name":65,"@type":85,"image":86,"author":91,"headline":65,"publisher":94,"fileFormat":97,"inLanguage":63,"description":67,"dateModified":98,"datePublished":99,"encodingFormat":97,"isAccessibleForFree":100,"interactionStatistic":101},"DigitalDocument",{"url":87,"@type":88,"width":89,"height":90},"https://docshare.wps.com/thumbnails/de-profundis-oscar-wilde/426031.png","ImageObject",300,407,{"name":92,"@type":93},"Jake","Person",{"url":74,"name":95,"@type":96},"DocShare","Organization","application/pdf","2026-10-23","2026-09-28",true,{"@type":102,"interactionType":103,"userInteractionCount":105},"InteractionCounter",{"@type":104},"ViewAction",13,{"@type":107,"mainEntity":108},"FAQPage",[109,115,119],{"name":110,"@type":111,"acceptedAnswer":112},"How does the text describe suffering in relation to time and seasons?","Question",{"text":113,"@type":114},"Suffering is presented as one very long moment that cannot be divided by seasons. Time seems to circle around one centre of pain, so sorrow does not move forward but returns in recurring moods.","Answer",{"name":116,"@type":111,"acceptedAnswer":117},"What is meant by “the season of sorrow” in the author’s account?",{"text":118,"@type":114},"The narrative claims there is only one season for the author: sorrow. Even the sun and moon seem taken from those imprisoned, and the light becomes grey and twilight-like both outside and within.",{"name":120,"@type":111,"acceptedAnswer":121},"What role does love play in the speaker’s change of inner life?",{"text":122,"@type":114},"A small, silent act of love is described as a secret debt kept in the heart. That memory unseals wells of pity, turns desert into blossoming, and restores harmony with the wounded, broken, and great heart of the world.","https://schema.org",{"og:url":83,"og:type":125,"og:title":65,"og:site_name":95,"og:description":67},"article",{"robots":127,"canonical":83},"index,follow",{"doc_id":129,"site_id":62},426031,1790742145,{"code":4,"msg":5,"data":132},{"doc_id":129,"user_id":133,"nickname":92,"user_avatar":134,"doc_module":4,"category_id":14,"category_name":15,"doc_title":65,"doc_description":67,"doc_content":135,"file_id":136,"file_url":137,"file_type":138,"file_size":139,"view_count":105,"is_deleted":4,"is_public":8,"is_downloadable":8,"audit_status":8,"page_count":140,"language":141,"language_code":63,"site_id":62,"html_lang":63,"table_of_contents":142,"faqs":143,"seo_title":144,"seo_description":67,"update_tm":145,"read_time":146},962084928904,"https://ap-avatar.wpscdn.com/davatar_155a257f0dc6eb9ab79c44ca47cae57d","# —DE—PROFUNDIS\n\nOSCAR WILDE  \n# De Profundis\n\nOscar Wilde  \n unou m urna sVu per以uBppay ou  +w6ow   \n.Suffering is one very long moment.We cannot divide it by seasons.We can only record its moods,and chronicle their return.With us timeitself does not progress.It revolves.It seems to circle round one centre ofpain.The paralysing immobility of a life every circumstance of which isregulated after an unchangeable pattern,so that we eat and drink and liedown and pray,or kneel at least for prayer,according to the inflexiblelaws of an iron formula:this immobile quality,that makes each dreadfulday in the very minutest detail like its brother,seems to communicateitself to those external forces the very essence of whose existence isceaseless change.Of seed-time or harvest,of the reapers bending overthe corn,or the grape gatherers threading through the vines,of the grassin the orchard made white with broken blossoms or strewn with fallenfruit:of these we know nothing and can know nothing.  \n—  \nFor us there is only one season,the season of sorrow.The very sunand moon seem taken from us.Outside,the day may be blue and gold,but the light that creeps down through the thickly-muffled glass of thesmall iron-barred window beneath which one sits is grey and niggard.Itis always twilight in one's cell,as it is always twilight in one's heart.Andin the sphere of thought,no less than in the sphere of time,motion is nomore.The thing that you personally have long ago forgotten,or can easilyforget,is happening to me now,and will happen to me again to-morrow.Remember this,and you will be able to understand a little of why I amwriting,and in this manner writing....  \nA week later,I am transferred here.Three more months go over and mymother dies.No one knew how deeply I loved and honoured her.Herdeath was terrible to me;but I,once a lord of language,have no words inwhich to express my anguish and my shame.She and my father hadbequeathed me a name they had made noble and honoured,not merelyin literature,art,archaeology,and science,but in the public history ofmy own country,in its evolution as a nation.I had disgraced that nameeternally.I had made it a low by-word among low people.I had dragged itthrough the very mire.I had given it to brutes that they might make  \n4018  \nit brutal,and to fools that they might turn it into a synonym for folly.What I suffered then,and still suffer,is not for pen to write or paper torecord.My wife,always kind and gentle to me,rather than that I shouldhear the news from indifferent lips,travelled,ill as she was,all the wayfrom Genoa to England to break to me herself the tidings of soirreparable,so irremediable,a loss.Messages of sympathy reached mefrom all who had still affection for me.Even people who had not knownme personally,hearing that a new sorrow had broken into my life,wroteto ask that some expression of their condolence should be conveyed tome....  \nThree months go over.The calendar of my daily conductand labour that hangs on the outside of my cell door,with my name andsentence written upon it,tells me that it is May....  \nProsperity,pleasure and success,may be rough of grain and commonin fibre,but sorrow is the most sensitive of all created things.There isnothing that stirs in the whole world of thought to which sorrow does notvibrate in terrible and exquisite pulsation.The thin beaten-out leaf oftremulous gold that chronicles the direction of forces the eye cannot seeis in comparison coarse.It is a wound that bleeds when any hand butthat of love touches it,and even then must bleed again,though not inpain.10ve painessly    tovcrus   sorrow.  \nWhere there is sorrow there in holy ground.Some day peoplewill realise what that means.They will know nothing of life till they do,-and natures like his can realise it.When I was brought down from myprison to the Court of Bankruptcy,between two policemen,-waited inthe long dreary corridor that,before the whole crowd,whom an action sosweet and simple hushed into silence,he migh","cbCaiuH0pUzrq76u","https://ap.wps.com/l/cbCaiuH0pUzrq76u","pdf",2552477,48,"English","# De Profundis\n## Suffering as an unending moment\n## The season of sorrow in confinement\n## Grief after the mother’s death\n## The power of love and pity in exile","[{\"question\":\"How does the text describe suffering in relation to time and seasons?\",\"answer\":\"Suffering is presented as one very long moment that cannot be divided by seasons. Time seems to circle around one centre of pain, so sorrow does not move forward but returns in recurring moods.\"},{\"question\":\"What is meant by “the season of sorrow” in the author’s account?\",\"answer\":\"The narrative claims there is only one season for the author: sorrow. Even the sun and moon seem taken from those imprisoned, and the light becomes grey and twilight-like both outside and within.\"},{\"question\":\"What role does love play in the speaker’s change of inner life?\",\"answer\":\"A small, silent act of love is described as a secret debt kept in the heart. That memory unseals wells of pity, turns desert into blossoming, and restores harmony with the wounded, broken, and great heart of the world.\"}]","De Profundis - Oscar Wilde | PDF",1790639174,74]