posted by NOCTÍVAGA at 9:08 AM
I was born to an endless night. Auguries of Innocence by William Blake To see a world in a grain of sand, And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour. A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all heaven in a rage. A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons Shudders hell thro' all its regions. A dog starv'd at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state. Every night and every morn Some to misery are born, Every morn and every night Some are born to sweet delight. Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night. We are led to believe a lie When we see not thro' the eye, Which was born in a night to perish in a night, When the soul slept in beams of light. God appears, and God is light, To those poor souls who dwell in night; But does a human form display To those who dwell in realms of day.
2 Comments:
perdas, perdas, perdas...
não podemos mais nos perder tanto assim. esse punhal cravado no leito da memória interrompe o curso da nossa história. é rio seco que corre áspero numa tarde de verão. é folha morta. é aquele que ama. somos todos nós, luzia. as taças estão dispostas sobre a mesa. bebamos. teçamos nossas teias. morramos.
Luzia, só quem ama pode falar de ausência e de perda assim. E o que se faz com a ausência do que não se tem ainda?...
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