It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.
from "Bird", by Pablo Neruda.
ρε αυτο το πουλοβερ πιστευα δεν θα μαρεσει σε κανεναν κιομως ρε φαινεται γαματο τελικα! ''επαθα'' πλακα!
ReplyDeleteγτ ερωτα μονιμως!
<3 <3 <3 δεν αντεχω αλλοοοοο!!!
ReplyDelete