The eye opens like a curtain risingIn the dark, feet search for something realConsciousness hasn’t happened yetAnd the floorboards are skin temperatureA fresh repetition, today…
The eye opens like a curtain risingIn the dark, feet search for something realConsciousness hasn’t happened yetAnd the floorboards are skin temperatureA fresh repetition, today…
Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf.…
is a Fearful Thing ‘Tis a fearful thing to love what death can touch. A fearful thing to love, to hope, to dream, to be…
Poema de William Ernest Henley. Adaptação para português de André Masini retirado do casadacultura.org. Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit…