I've finally found out
That most of the tears I cried
Were not mine.
They dropped from other eyes,
so clear, salty and bright
-but they were not mine.
Yet I have on my face
All the tracks
They've left behind.
Quem era aquela moça Que ficou à janela? Passei por ela, há alguns dias, E quase a reconheci. Seus olhos tinham um brilho estranho, O sorr...
Marvelous poem, Ana! I loved it!
ResponderExcluirCongratulations!!!! your blog is very beautiful!!!!!!
Kisses