terça-feira, dezembro 07, 2004



Ah, Sun-flower, weary of time,

Who countest the steps of the Sun,

Seeking after that sweet golden clime

Where the traveller's journey is done:

Where the Youth pined away with desire,

And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow

Arise from their graves, and aspire

Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.

William Blake (1757-1827) - Songs of Experience

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