domingo, 11 de novembro de 2012

Love

"Love, love accursed torture why did you not blossom on every treetop? On the top of every tree, on the leafs of the walnut tree, so that every maiden and young man would have plucked you. Because I plucked it too and I let it slip away. I plucked it too and I let it slip away. O, I would pluck one again if I found a good one, if I found a good one, a beautiful one, my old lover. And for my old lover what wouldn't I do? I would skim the water from the sea with a spoon. From the bottom of the sea I would gather small pearls and for my old lover I would braid a wreath of pearls."


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