quinta-feira, janeiro 13, 2005

A solitude tem seus prazeres...

I drank at every vine.
The last was like the first.
I came upon no wine
So wonderful as thirst.

I gnawed at every root.
I ate of every plant.
I came upon no fruit
So wonderful as want.

Feed the grape and bean
To the vintner and monger:
I will lie down lean
With my thirst and my hunger.
Edna St. Vincent Millay

Nenhum comentário: