'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
'They called me the hyacinth girl.'
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
Od' und leer das Meer.
[...]
Veio-me de repente isto à cabeça. Por razões várias.
Há coisas a que voltamos de modo recorrente.
London bridge is falling down falling down falling down
Sem comentários:
Enviar um comentário